


Winter in Vermont

by miss_grey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, B&B, Castiel owns a B&B, Dean is a veteran, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Inspired by that one line about owning a B&B in Vermont, M/M, Romance, Schmoop, Winter, because Zachariah is a douchebag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 05:45:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_grey/pseuds/miss_grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes we learn, in the strangest of ways, that home isn't always a place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A House in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> This story is honestly just romance, fluff, and warm cozy feels. Minimal angst.

 

_“All the darkness in the world cannot extinguish the light of a single candle.”-St. Francis of Assisi_

 

 

_Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening_

_Whose woods these are I think I know._

_His house is in the village though;_

_He will not see me stopping here_

_To watch his woods fill up with snow._

_My little horse must think it queer_

_To stop without a farmhouse near_

_Between the woods and frozen lake_

_The darkest evening of the year._

_He gives his harness bells a shake_

_To ask if there is some mistake._

_The only other sound’s the sweep_

_Of easy wind and downy flake._

_The woods are lovely, dark and deep._

_But I have promises to keep,_

_And miles to go before I sleep,_

_And miles to go before I sleep.—Robert Frost_

 

            It was dark when he arrived.  He had the taxi drop him at the end of the drive so that he could stretch his legs and take in the fresh air before he came face to face with his new employer.  It was ten o’clock at night.  His flight had been delayed out of Chicago thanks to the monster storm that was now pounding the Midwest.  He’d misplaced the number for The Woods Bed and Breakfast and hadn’t been able to call ahead to let the proprietor know that he’d be getting in late.  But it wasn’t an outrageous hour and there was nothing to be done about it now.  So with a short, aborted wave, the taxi driver pulled away, red tail-lights twisting out of sight on the wooded lane.  Taking a deep breath, Dean heaved the strap of his duffle further onto his shoulder, shoved his hands in his pockets, and made his way steadily up the path.

            The air was cold enough that it felt like Dean’s lungs were freezing with each breath that he took, but he didn’t mind, because it was fresh and clean, and it smelled like snow and trees and wood-smoke.  The lane was mostly cleared of snow, but the moonlight shone off of the drifts of white that bordered the lane and disappeared in the distance.  It glittered through branches that were hung with icicles.  Frankly, it was beautiful.  Dean allowed himself the thought, un-selfconscious in his aloneness.  The smell of wood-smoke grew stronger and as Dean rounded a corner in the lane, the warm golden glow of lights shone from the windows of a house that seemed to materialize out of the forest.

            Dean’s first impression was pleasant surprise.  He’d been expecting something larger; while The Woods wasn’t tiny by any means, it wasn’t overwhelming.  He couldn’t see too many details in the dark, but he could make out the outline of the bulk of the squat, square building.  Snow glittered on the roof and gave the face of the building a darker look in contrast.  It might have looked intimidating except for the warm yellow light spilling out of the downstairs windows.  The lights cast shadows on the snow drifts that were piled high under the windows, but Dean could see that the snow and ice had been cleared from the path that led to the front door.

            He walked up the last few feet of the path and stood in front of the plain white door, where a wreath hung from an old, rusty nail at eye-level.  Dean took a deep breath, ran a hand through his hair, and straightened his clothes, and closed his eyes for just a moment, just long enough to calm himself down, before the raised his knuckles to the wood and gave three quick raps.  His shoulders tensed while he waited, despite trying to force himself to calm down.  He wasn’t really sure what he was getting himself into.  He’d only spoken with the B&B’s owner twice—once for the phone interview, and the second time to confirm his travel plans—and in both of those conversations, the man had come off polite but formal, with a semi-stilted way of speaking.  His voice had been deep with a steady cadence, and from the sound, Dean had pictured a large, middle-aged business type.  Dean was suddenly drawn from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door.  He quickly wiped his palms on his jeans and took a deep breath just as the door was pulled open and light flooded out to envelope him, along with the warm smell of cinnamon and ginger and baking. 

            The man standing in the doorway was about an inch shorter than Dean, lean, wearing a dark blue Henley and faded jeans.  He was young, late twenties or early thirties, with dark hair that seemed to have a mind of its own, an earnest, open face, and large, crystal blue eyes.  He smiled, “Hello.  How can I help you?”  He asked, and the depth of his voice threw Dean for a loop.  Surely this wasn’t the man he’d spoken to over the phone?

            Dean smiled back, cleared his throat, and offered his hand.  “Hi, yeah.  My name is Dean Winchester.  I’m looking for Mr. Novak—he’s expecting me.”

            The man gripped his hand tightly and shook it; his palm was warm and soft, but not delicate.  His shake was firm and Dean approved.  There was nothing he hated more than a limp handshake, and almost as bad were those guys who tried to crush your fingers.  But this guy was firm and welcoming, and he pushed the door open further, backing up.  “Come in, Dean.  It’s cold outside.”  When Dean crossed the threshold and the door was shut behind him, he was enveloped in warmth and light, and the smell of baking made his mouth water.  He turned to face the man once more.  “I am Castiel Novak,” the man said with a slight tilt of his head and another small smile “And I was expecting you.  Actually, I’d begun to worry when you didn’t arrive earlier.  I hope everything is alright?”

            The man’s face was so open with honest concern that Dean was immediately put at ease and he could feel the tension in his shoulders slowly dissipating.  “Yeah, sorry about that.  My flight out of Chicago was delayed, but I’d misplaced your phone number.  I would have called….”

            A small frown flitted across Novak’s face, and a crease appeared between his eyebrows as he hummed to himself, “Yes, I suppose that’s ordinary at this time of year.  I hope your flight wasn’t too terrible.”

            Dean chuckled.  “I don’t think it was any worse than normal, but I’m not really a fan of flying in the first place, so…” He shrugged.  “Anyway, I’m sorry about not calling and showing up so late.”  It wasn’t how Dean had wanted to make his first impression.

            Novak waved his apology off, however.  “Don’t concern yourself with it, Dean.  I am only glad that you’ve arrived safely.  Come, let me show you to your room and then we can talk, if that is alright with you?”

            “Sure thing.”  Dean offered his best grin and followed behind Novak as he turned to the left, where a staircase lined the wall of what Dean assumed was the main living space of the house.  The stairs creaked faintly as they ascended to the second floor, but not in a bad way.  The sounds attested to age and use—this house had been lived in and from the looks of it, cared for.  A little wear was what separated these country B&Bs from the more sterile hotels that many preferred.  The second floor had the same golden maple flooring as the first had, though a thick cream rug ran the length of the long, open hallway that the stairwell opened up to.  On each side of the hallway were two doors.  Novak led Dean to the back left hand door, which was marked with a 2, pulled an old-fashioned key out of his pocket, unlocked the door and pushed it open, and strode in to flip the light on before he motioned for Dean to enter.

            Again, Dean was pleasantly surprised.  The room wasn’t extravagant: it held a sturdy, wood-framed bed that was covered in a dark green duvet, with an additional quilt draped over the footboard.  There was a bureau, a desk, and in the corner closest to the window was a heater that immediately caught Dean’s eye.  He wandered over to inspect it and realized that while it looked like an old-fashioned wood stove, it was actually a modern space heater.  “Hey man, this is awesome,” He said, turning back to Novak, who blushed faintly and bowed his head.  “Thank you—I found them charming and splurged while I was doing the renovations.”  Now that Dean had turned, he could see there was also an additional door in his room, which was opened to a cozy but clean bathroom that was fitted with the usual toilet, a pedestal sink, and a sparkling clean shower/bath combo that had a dark green shower curtain tied neatly back.  “Wow, I get my own bathroom, too?”  Dean asked.

            “Of course.”  Novak responded, with a tilt of his head.  “All of the guest rooms are en-suite.”  Dean walked back to the bed and set his duffle down, noting as he did that the floor in the room was the same golden maple wood, but was warmed by a thick, soft, deep green rug.  “Does the room meet with approval?”  Novak asked, his eyebrows pulling together slightly in worry.

            “Oh yeah,” Dean said, shrugging out of his heavy jacket, “It’s great, actually.  Better than I was expecting.”

            “Oh?  What were you expecting?”  Novak asked with another inquisitive tilt of his head.  He reminded Dean of a cat that couldn’t figure out a ball of yarn.

            “I didn’t really know what to expect to be honest.  This whole situation is kinda new to me.”  He said, suddenly feeling self-conscious again.

            “Of course,” Novak nodded, and a smile returned to his face.  “Are you hungry, Dean?”

            As if answering for him, Dean’s stomach chose that moment to gurgle loudly.  He blushed and rubbed his hand over his belly.  “Yeah, now that you mention it, I haven’t eaten since this morning.  I uh, was too nervous to eat on the flight.”

            Novak nodded understandingly.  “I’ll let you get cleaned up, then.  Just come back down the way you came when you’re done.  How does chicken and potatoes sound?”

            “It sounds like heaven.”  With that, Novak nodded and let himself out of the room, shutting the door softly behind himself.

 

 

 

 

            When Dean made his way into the kitchen a few minutes later, he felt refreshed, but was nervous all over again and he wasn’t sure why.  The kitchen was cozy and warm like the rest of the house, with a wide island in the center, stools pulled up along one side.  The cabinets on the walls matched the golden maple of the floors, and the kitchen walls were painted a pale buttercup.  One large window set above the sink was framed in white and Dean could see the snow piling up against the glass.  When he arrived, Novak was bustling around the kitchen.  He noticed Dean come in, though, and motioned toward a plate that was steaming on the island.  So Dean pulled one of the stools out and settled down to eat.  “What would you like to drink?”  Novak asked.

            “Oh, uh, water is fine.”  Dean said, suddenly feeling out of place.  A few seconds later, there was a tall glass of ice water set in front of him and Novak leaned back against the opposite counter, folding his arms over his chest.

            “Go ahead and eat, Dean, before it gets cold.”  And with that, Dean took a large bite of the roast chicken and potatoes and had to stop himself from groaning in pleasure.  It tasted fucking fantastic.

            “Oh man, who made this?  It’s fantastic.”  He said, shoveling another bite in.  Novak actually blushed and bowed his head again so that Dean could no longer see his eyes.  “I did.”  He admitted, shrugging.  “I do the cooking for the guests.”  Dean didn’t know why he was embarrassed, but now he was both impressed and intrigued.  “I’m glad you are enjoying the food.”  He waited patiently while Dean ate, and when he was finished, he asked “Would you like a slice of pie?  I was baking it when you arrived.”

            Dean could feel his mouth water and he must have nodded dumbly because Novak simply smiled and passed a slice of pie over to Dean’s now-empty plate.  The crust was golden and flaky and a reddish-purple juice was oozing out of the sides.  God, this was heaven, wasn’t it?  “What kind is it?”  He managed to ask.

            “Oh.  Boysenberry.”  Novak said, smiling warmly.  “It’s a new recipe.  I hope you enjoy it.”  And with that, Dean dug his fork in and took a large bite.  And it practically melted in his mouth, the berries the perfect mix of sweet and tart.  He’s pretty sure that this time he did groan.  “Oh.  Oh man, this is awesome.  Really.”  He practically inhaled the pie, and when he was done, he rose to clean his dishes, but Novak took them from him before he could make his way around the island.  “No way man, let me clean up.  You just fed me.”

            Novak was stubborn, though, and shook his head.  “Please, Dean.  Sit.  You’ve had a long day of travel.  It is really no trouble to clean up.”  Dean watched, tongue poised to protest once more as  Novak rinsed the dishes before loading them into the dishwasher and turning around.  He struck his previous pose, leaning casually against the back counter, arms crossed over his chest, eyes focusing closely on Dean.  “Now that you’ve eaten, we can talk.”

            Suddenly Dean’s ease slipped away and he was nervous again.  Novak had been nice so far but now it was time to get down to business, and Dean had to remind himself that this was his new boss.  “Yeah, sure.  I guess we still have some details to sort out.”

            “Yes,” Novak nodded.  “We weren’t able to speak of too much over the phone.”

            Dean cleared his throat, “Yeah, sorry again about that, Mr. Novak,” he began, but Novak cut him off with a wave of his hand “Please, call me Castiel.  And do not worry yourself about the past, it is fine.”

            “Alright, Castiel,” Dean said, trying the name out.  It felt strange on his tongue, foreign and flowing.  “What would you like to discuss then?”

            Castiel let his arms fall to his sides and let out a breath.  “Well, Dean, first I wanted to thank you for coming, and to formally welcome you to The Woods B&B.  I hope that you will be happy here.  My previous assistant, Jo, left for college about a month ago, and I have been slightly overwhelmed since her departure.  It is hard to keep up everything on my own, especially during the winter time, and your help will be much appreciated.” 

Dean tipped his head in acknowledgement, before saying “Well, I’m happy to be here, and I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity.  It’s been hard finding a job since I’ve been back.”  Dean admitted with a wry twist of his mouth.

            Castiel’s eyebrows drew together and his mouth twisted to match Dean’s.  “That’s what you said the first time we spoke.  That is something I do not understand.  Perhaps you could elaborate?”

            Dean shrugged, “There’s not a whole lot to it, really.  Being a veteran still carries a kind of stigma in some places, especially when you’ve been discharged at my age.  And, well, the army is the only job I’ve had outside of bagging groceries as a teenager.  So my experience is limited, I guess….”

            Castiel made a noise of disagreement in the back of his throat and jerked his head in an aborted shake.  “That’s ridiculous.”  He murmured.  “You had mentioned that you were injured in the line of duty.  I don’t mean to pry if you don’t want to talk about it but…”

            Dean huffed out a breath.  He’d known the question would come up, and really, it wasn’t something he was ashamed of, or traumatized over still or anything, but it was kind of awkward to talk about, because inevitably the pitying looks always followed.  But Castiel was his new employer and he’d been nothing but understanding thus far, so Dean decided to roll the dice and go for it.  “Yeah, I uh, I was shot during a routine checkpoint stop.”

            Castiel gasped, his eyes going wide and flickering over Dean, as though he might be able to detect the wound.  Finally his eyes flicked up to meet Dean’s. “How…um…how bad was it?”  He was obviously trying to be tactful but Dean knew that he really wanted to know where he’d been shot.

            “He shot me in the chest.  I was lucky, he missed my heart, but just barely.  Still, they barely got me to a medic in time.  And anyway, enough damage was done that my years of service were over.”  He shook his head to dispel the bad memories.  “Anyway, I’m alive and healed and that’s what matters now.”

            Castiel’s eyes were wide and sympathetic.  “I’m sorry you had to endure that, and I’m sorry for the difficulty you’ve had since then.  I imagine recovery must have been hard.”

            Dean nodded.  “Yeah, it was.  A few months of rest and physical therapy before I was back to my normal life, sans the army.”

            “Well, I’ll say it again.  I’m glad you are here—you are most definitely welcome.  You said that you’d wanted to move here specifically, but I don’t recall you mentioning why when we spoke on the phone.”

            “Oh, yeah.”  And Dean couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.  “My younger brother is attending college in Montpelier.  Once I was discharged from the service, I had no place else to go, and no reason not to move closer to him.”

            Castiel returned his grin.  “Well, family is always a good reason to move.  I am glad that you will be close to your brother.  What is he studying, if you don’t mind me asking?”

            “He’s studying to be a lawyer.  Kid’s a genius.”  Dean allowed himself a moment to let his pride in Sam swell in his chest before he forced himself to return to the real point of the conversation.  “So, Castiel, you hired me as maintenance, but we really only covered the basics during the interview.  I’m curious to learn more about what all you’d like me to do.”  Dean felt like kind of a dick for redirecting the conversation, but he knew from experience that it was bad to talk about personal stuff too much before you really knew someone.  Especially when Castiel wasn’t his friend, he was his boss.

            Castiel looked thrown by the abrupt change of topic, but luckily he seemed willing to roll with it.  “Oh, yes.  Well, it’s not so much that the work is difficult—I’m able to do everything that needs to be done, for the most part, but with Jo gone it’s just that there’s so much that needs doing.  And with me taking over her duties as well….”  He shrugged.  “And like I said, there’s more work that needs done in the winter time.  For the most part, I cook and clean for the guests, and run the books and the reservations.  What I had posted the listing for was for someone who was willing to shovel snow to keep the lane relatively clear, and to chop wood for the main fireplace.”

            “Yeah, that’s what you said over the phone, but there must be more?”

            Castiel nodded.  “Those are things that must be done regularly.  Occassionally, other jobs must be done.  Issues do arise where maintenance is required, and more often than not, it’s simple things like plumbing or such, but I have neither the time nor the knowledge for some of these problems.  And it becomes very expensive to call in an expert every time a sink backs up.”

            Dean snorted.  “Yeah, some of those guys will rob you blind.”  He looked down at his hands for a moment, then glanced back up at Castiel.  “So pretty much you’re saying we’re gonna take it a day at a time and see what needs to be done?”

            Castiel smiled in a self-deprecating way that put Dean on edge for some reason.  “Yes.  That’s pretty much the nature of this business.  Does it sound agreeable to you?”

            “Sure, Castiel.”  The name still sounded strange and awkward on Dean’s tongue. “You just let me know what needs to be done, and I’ll get it done for you.  Seriously, man, I can’t thank you enough for giving me this job.  I really appreciate it.”

            Again, Castiel waved him off.  “You are welcome, Dean.  Now, I’m sure you must be exhausted after your day, and I admit, I have had a long day as well.  If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to call it a day.”

            “You’re right about that.  I’m wiped.  What time would you like me to get to work in the morning?”

            Castiel looked over his shoulder out of the window and seemed to be contemplating for a moment, before Dean realized he was judging the snowfall.  “Well, it’s snowing out, but it doesn’t look too bad.  I’ve only got one guest right now—an elderly woman whose daughter is supposed to come by sometime tomorrow afternoon—so eight o’clock should be early enough to deal with any snow that falls overnight.  Is eight acceptable?”

            “Sure.  Like I said, you just let me know what you need and I’ll get it done.  I’ll see you at eight, I guess?”  Dean said, standing and stretching before pushing the stool back underneath the counter. 

            “Yes,” Castiel smiled.  “Have a good night Dean.”  And with that, Dean turned and trudged back up to his room.  He took a few minutes to brush his teeth and undress, but then he flicked the lights off and collapsed on the bed face-first and was out within minutes.


	2. The Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seriously... it's all just domesticity and fluff....

           

 

            Dean was up before the sun despite having slept like the dead.  He’d expected to toss and turn all night, being in a new place, but he guessed the stress of the flight and meeting his new employer had drained him more than he’d imagined.  But Castiel had put him at relative ease with his friendly welcome and the warmth and comfort of his room had lulled him into sleep.  In fact, his bed was so warm and soft, it took all of Dean’s willpower to pull himself from it.  Eventually he did so, stretching and popping his joints as his feet touched the chilled floor.  He fought off a shiver and made his way into the bathroom to shower for the day.  Dean figured pleasantly surprised was an emotion he should get used to, as it seemed to be a theme at The Woods.  His shower had great water pressure and Dean stood under the spray longer than he needed to clean himself, simply letting the hot pounding spray ease the remaining tension from his muscles.

            The sun was only just peeking over the horizon when Dean emerged from the bathroom, so he took his time dressing, pulling on jeans and a thick green sweater.  He laced up his work boots, grabbed his jacket, and then was headed downstairs to grab something to eat before he started his first day on the job.  When he reached the bottom of the landing, he was hit with the scent of bacon and his mouth watered.  As he rounded the corner, he saw Castiel busy at the stove.  Today he was in black slacks, a maroon sweater, and his hair was just as mussed as it was the night before.  Dean wondered for a moment if he styled it that way, but then dismissed it.  It seemed too natural for it to have been artful.  He cleared his throat as he came in so as not to startle the other man, but Castiel just turned around with a smile and said “Good morning, Dean.  I hope you slept well.”

            Dean offered him a smile “I slept great, actually.”

            “You’re awake early.”

            “Yeah, I uh was just gonna grab something to eat real quick before I get to work.”

            Castiel nodded easily.  “Sure.  Do you like eggs and bacon?  I’m accustomed to making breakfasts for the guests, and even though it’s only Mrs. Hatfield here right now, it’s hard to break the habit.”

            Dean smirked “Are you kidding?   Bacon and eggs sounds like heaven right now.”

            Castiel smiled and went back to pushing bacon around a pan.  “Good.  Also, there’s coffee in the pot over there.  Mugs are in the top left shelf.  Help yourself Dean.”

            Dean grabbed a mug out of the cabinet and noted with a quirk of his eyebrow that they were all mismatched, most with bright patterns on them.  Dean’s was a green mug with giant yellow daisies painted on the side.  He shook his head softly while he poured himself some coffee and took a sip.  It was hot and strong and perfect.  Dean leaned back against the counter so that he could watch Castiel cook.  “Thanks.  This is good.”

            “Yes, coffee is one of my guilty pleasures.  I favor this particular hazelnut roast.”  A moment later, he was piling the bacon and eggs onto two plates and carrying them over to a small dining table that Dean hadn’t noticed the night before.

            They ate quickly and silently but Dean was glad to note that it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence.  The food was warm and good and the coffee perked him right up.  He scooped up the dishes before Castiel could this time and rinsed them in the sink before loading them into the dishwasher.  Then he wiped his hands on his jeans and turned to face Castiel, who was regarding him with a strange look on his face.  Dean shifted uncomfortably for a moment before he cleared his throat and asked “So I guess I should get to work.  Did you want me to clear the front path first?”

            “Actually, I checked earlier and the snow isn’t that bad.  We only got about another inch, so it can wait for a little while.  I thought you might like a real tour of the place now that you’ve rested?”

            “A tour sounds great.  It was too dark when I got in last night to see much.”

            Without wasting any more time, Castiel began leading Dean on a tour of the house.  He’d of course seen the living room when he arrived the night before, but he hadn’t paid much attention to the large fireplace on the right wall which was crackling merrily as they made their way through the first floor.  On the far wall of the living room was the staircase that led to the second floor.  Past the living room, through a large archway, the space opened up into the cheery kitchen and past that was a bright dining space set in front of large bay windows.  On the left wall stood a door that Dean had noted during breakfast but disregarded.  Castiel now led him through the door, announcing that it was actually his living quarters.  It was weird to walk into this guy’s personal space because Dean knew how he felt when someone walked into his, but Castiel assured him that he wasn’t bothered by it.  “After all, since you will be performing any maintenance, it is best if you are familiar with the entire property, yes?”  And so Dean followed him into the room, casting an appreciative eye on how this room was larger than he’d been expecting, but just as simply and tastefully furnished.  Large, heavy but simple furniture dominated the space, contrasting nicely with the maple floors but Castiel’s color theme was blue, like his eyes, Dean noted.  His only surprise came when Castiel opened the door that led to the ensuite bathroom.  He couldn’t help the whistle when he walked into the space, and he could see Castiel blush and shift embarrassedly. 

             “I know it’s a bit lavish, but, well….”  He shrugged his shoulders, clearly at a loss.  But Dean wasn’t going to judge.  He was impressed.  The floor was a dark slate, the sink was an elegant pedestal sink similar to the one in Dean’s own room, but the shower easily dominated the room.  It was a large rectangle, framed in clear glass, with matching dark slate on the back wall.  Multiple shower heads, including one of those fancy rain-style ones, protruded from the wall and the ceiling. 

             “Wow, man.  That’s a beauty.”

            Castiel chuckled.  “Thank you.  Again, it was a splurge during the remodel.  Generally I don’t care for fancy things, but my shower is another matter.”  After that it started feeling a little awkward again, so Dean followed Castiel back out of the room and nodded when Castiel pointed to a small attached mudroom at the very back of the house, where the laundry facilities were located.  The upstairs was dedicated entirely to guest rooms, all of which Dean was able to peek into, aside from the one currently occupied by elderly Mrs. Hatfield, who could be heard puttering around behind the door.  A trapdoor in the ceiling led to a relatively spacious attic which was empty except for a couple random boxes and a broom.

            Daylight only added to the charm of the house, Dean decided as he stood in the drive and took a good look at The Woods.  The house was painted a darker brick red color, with white trim.  The snow on the roof and ground practically glowed with the brightness of the morning and Dean could see tiny icicles hanging from the roof.  Castiel must have caught Dean looking at them because he said “That’s one thing I forgot to mention last night, Dean.  We need to keep an eye on the icicles and if they get much larger than that, they will need to be knocked down.  I don’t want to take any chances with them breaking off and possibly harming either us or the guests.”  Dean nodded in understanding and Castiel took him on a short tour around the house.  From what Dean could see, everything seemed to be in good repair.  As he’d surmised from his first impressions, the house wasn’t fancy by any means, but it was obviously well loved. At the sides of the house were raised terraces, blocked in stone, and Dean assumed that in the spring they were flower beds.  Now they were merely mounds of snow.  The house was surrounded by trees, but even those had obviously been cut back when the house had been built, and maintained since then.  “The property is a couple of acres, but it backs up to the woods so it feels much larger.  Often during the warmer months, the guests enjoy taking walks into the woods.  About a half mile behind the house, there is a little pond which can be quite nice.”  Castiel concluded their tour by showing Dean to the tool shed behind the house where the snow shovels and bags of salt and gravel were housed.  “Keeping the lane clear of snow and ice is probably the most important thing that I will ask of you, Dean.  So many of my guests are elderly or are unfamiliar with the weather in Vermont and do not know to be cautious.  Only the parking area and the walkway need to be shoveled.  One of the men from town, Andy, comes by every few days or after a storm with his Cat in order to clear the lane.”

            Dean turned from where he had been staring down the lane, his boot prints from the night before already obscured by the night’s snow, and came face to face with Castiel, who was standing closer than he’d originally thought.  Instead of taking a step back like was his instinct to do, Dean and Castiel just stared at each other for a long, drawn-out moment.  Again, Dean was kind of amazed at how large and blue Castiel’s eyes were.  Yeah, he definitely wasn’t what Dean had been expecting.  After their staring session began to feel awkward, Dean coughed and turned his eyes.  The movement seemed to drag Castiel back to the present and he apologized, blushing, before he bid Dean good morning and left him standing in the entryway while he made a quick return to the warmth of the house.  Dean watched him until the front door shut then, taking a deep breath of the cold, cleansing air, he got to work clearing the path.


	3. Ashwood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for mild homophobia. Also: Zachariah is a jerk face.

          

            If Castiel was honest with himself, Dean Winchester was not what he’d been expecting.  When he’d spoken with him over the phone for the interview, Dean had mentioned that he was recently out of the army due to an injury, and despite knowing that Dean was only 26 years old, he’d for some reason been picturing a man of mature years, weathered by war.  While Dean had the look of someone who was deeply tired and who had obviously experienced a lot in his life, his eyes were still full of life and he smiled easily.  He seemed a little rough around the edges, but in an honest, unself-conscious kind of way that Castiel could appreciate.  In fact it was refreshing.

            He’d been nervous hiring someone without meeting them first, but Jo had helped him go through applications and assured him that this was how it was done nowadays.  It may be common in big business but the difference, Castiel had reminded her, was that whomever Castiel hired would not only work in close quarters with him, but would also live in his home.  That was the nature of owning a B&B. 

            Dean’s upfront honesty during the interview had put Castiel at ease, and when Dean had told him of his situation Castiel realized that he was most certainly qualified for the position and seemed to be in need of a change of pace.  Losing Jo to college was hard for Castiel, but he was proud of her and wished her nothing but the best.  She’d been more than a great employee.  She’d become a friend of his, someone who he could trust.  Replacing her was hard enough in itself, but inviting a strange man into his home on a permanent basis (as opposed to his customers who came and went) made him nervous.

            Castiel settled himself in front of the computer in his room in order to check for new reservations (there was one) and distract himself from the fact that he knew Dean was outside at that very moment shoveling snow out of the entryway.  He could hear the scrape of the shovel and the heavy “whumping” sound the snow made when it hit the ground.  He could almost picture him….

Castiel shook his head to clear his mind of those thoughts.  He wouldn’t let this become problematic.  It was nothing, really.  Castiel was an adult and he was perfectly capable of controlling his wandering thoughts.  It’s just that… he hadn’t expected Dean Winchester to be so attractive.

 

* * *

 

 

            Mrs. Hatfield’s daughter came to pick her up at 11:00 and shortly after, Castiel decided to head into the village.  He found Dean outside walking the perimeter of the house again, making himself familiar with his new turf, Castiel supposed.  Dean turned at his approach, a friendly smile on his face.  “Hey Castiel, what’s up?”

            “I’m going into the village for business.  I will be a couple hours at least.  Mrs. Hatfield isn’t due back until this evening.”

            Dean’s face fell minutely, the easy grin diminishing so that it no longer reached his eyes.  Castiel noticed.  “Oh, alright.  What do you need done while you’re gone?”

            “Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to come along?  I know you haven’t had a chance to see the village yet and I thought you might like to get familiar with it?”

            Dean’s smile returned with a quick flash.  “Yeah, man, that would be great.  Give me just a minute, alright?  Be right back.”  And with that, he jogged around the side of the house and out of sight.  Castiel supposed it shouldn’t surprise him that Dean appeared to be in such good shape.  After all, he’d told Castiel during the interview, and the night before, that he’d fully healed from his injury, but hearing it and seeing it were vastly different things.  Castiel couldn’t imagine bouncing back so thoroughly after being shot in the chest.  It made him feel very uncomfortable thinking of Dean being hurt in that way, so he shook the thoughts off and went to get the truck from the garage.

            The village wasn’t actually far from The Woods, close enough that during the warm months, it was actually a very nice walk.  But during winter, it wasn’t practical, and when the snow was deep, sometimes it was nearly impossible.  Castiel never quite understood how some of the early pioneers were able to move around the way they had.  When a particularly bad storm rolled in, he sometimes felt like he was being buried alive, and it made him a little stir crazy.  It wouldn’t be as bad this winter, he told himself, because he wouldn’t be alone.  Last winter had been hard; they’d had a rough winter and he’d gone almost two weeks without a single visitor and the roads had been so unmanageable that he hadn’t even asked Jo to try to keep him company.  At first he’d been thankful for the down time to get some things around the B&B done, and he’d done some reading, lots of baking.  But there had been two horrible days when the snow and ice had taken down the power lines.  Castiel hadn’t been afraid of the dark, or the cold, or even the loss of communication.  But as he’d watched the snow piling up outside, he’d had a bad moment when he’d felt like he was being entombed, that the world was shutting him out.  He shuddered just remembering it.  But it would not be that way this year.  Even if things got bad again, Dean was living at the B&B now as well so if nothing else, he would have some company.

            They drove in silence, Castiel going over his to-do list in his mind once more before they reached the village, organizing it to be as efficient as possible.  It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the village of Ashwood—he did—but he knew there was a good chance he might run into people he did not like during his business today and he hoped to get it over with as soon as possible.  For his part, Dean hummed softly to himself, a song Castiel did not know, and stared out of the window at the snow and the trees they passed.  Castiel thought for a moment that he should start a conversation but he couldn’t think about what, so he let it go.  Dean worked for him, that didn’t necessarily mean they were friends, and it didn’t mean Dean wanted to talk to him all the time.  Castiel had meant to be friendly the night before and earlier in the day, but now that he thought back on it, he wondered if he hadn’t been overly friendly.  If maybe he’d pressed for details that Dean wasn’t necessarily comfortable sharing.  So he let it go for now, let Dean enjoy his own thoughts, and he drove on.  When they reached the village, they traded cell phone numbers and Castiel told Dean that he would call him when he was done with his business.  Dean agreed and they parted ways.

 

 

 

            The first stop on Castiel’s list was the bank.  The parking lot was full when he pulled in but he managed to find a spot that wasn’t covered in snow.  He hauled his carrier bag over his shoulder and made his way across the snowy asphalt.  Like most of the buildings in Ashwood, the bank kept with the traditional village look—if one ignored the brightly painted credit union side on the front, there would be no way to tell that it was a bank at all—and Castiel pushed through the tall wooden doors.  He smiled and gave nods of acknowledgment to the community members that he recognized—Tessa and Andy—and then retreated to his own mind to endure the line.  By the time he reached the counter, he was embarrassed to realize that he’d been humming Dean’s tune from the car under his breath for the last five minutes, even though he still could not identify the song.  He sighed and opened his satchel, pulling out the credit slips and cash bag and thumping them onto the counter.  His clerk for the day, Chuck, turned and raised his eyebrows at the “thump” but smiled and said “Hi, Castiel.  How’s business?”

            Castiel found himself smiling back.  He’d always found Chuck to be friendly and easygoing despite his awkward nature and relatively scruffy appearance.  “Hello, Chuck.  Business is doing fairly well, thank you.  Hopefully the snows will remain manageable and we will all have a productive season.”

            “Hmmm, yeah, hopefully,” Chuck said absently as he began processing the checks that Castiel had pushed across the counter.  “I heard through the grapevine that you hired a new employee.”

            Castiel felt his brows knit together and he cocked his head curiously.  Dean had only arrived the night before—there hadn’t been _time_ to spread the news.  His confusion must have shown because Chuck shrugged and said “I overheard Jo and Ellen talking about it over the weekend.”  Castiel nodded in acknowledgment.  “So?”

            He cleared his throat, sort of uncomfortable discussing Dean without him present.  “Well, I did hire someone for maintenance.  They arrived last night.”

            Chuck’s face brightened.  “Great!  Who is it?”

            “His name is Dean.  I’m sure you will meet him soon enough.”

            “How is he?”

            Castiel felt his mind start drifting at the question, as he imagined Dean Winchester in his mind, but he pulled his thoughts back quickly and said “Oh, he seems friendly enough.  Anyway, sorry to rush, Chuck, but I have a list of other places I must stop at.  Have a good day.”  He took the receipt from Chuck’s hand and made his way out of the line, ignoring Chuck’s disgruntled face at being cut off from his gossip.

 

 

 

            The next stop on Castiel’s list was one of the places he hated most in the world, however it was necessary and he loathed that fact.  The village chamber of commerce was in a large, dominating brick building, evidence of its self-importance.  Castiel tugged his jacket tighter, arranged his satchel, and plastered on a smile before he ascended the steps and entered into the reception area.

            “Well hey there, Clarence,” a sickly sweet twang greeted him from behind the help desk and Castiel felt it like a too-familiar hand down his spine.  “You just don’t quit, do ya?”

            “Hello Meg.”  Castiel squared his shoulders and approached the desk, laying his hands flat on its surface.  “I am here to speak to Zachariah.”

            “Of course you are.  Hold on a sec, let me give him a buzz.”  She picked up the phone, pressed a button and said “Mr. Novak is here to see you,” a pause wherein she smirked harder “yes, again.  Sure thing, boss, I’ll tell him.”  She hung up the phone and pinned Castiel with her dark eyes.  “He says to head on up.”  After a slight pause she added.  “I don’t know why you bother.  He’s never going to change his mind.”

            Castiel squared his shoulders.  “Maybe.  But I’m also never going to quit.”

He ascended the stairs quickly and paused outside of Zachariah’s office only long enough to give a short rap of knuckles against the wood before he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

 

            The office did not match the façade of the building.  The outside at least resembled the architecture of the surrounding buildings, but Zachariah’s office was a modern monstrosity, decked out in glass and cool metal.  Castiel fought down a shiver as he closed the door behind him and came to stand in front of Zachariah’s giant desk.  The man in question sat behind it, hands folded neatly on the desk in front of him, smug smirk firmly in place.  “Mr. Novak.  What can I help you with today?”

            Castiel pulled his business folder, complete with tax forms and monthly income statements, from his satchel and laid it on the desk in front of Zachariah.  “I have come to petition, once again, for my business to be listed with Ashwood’s Chamber of Commerce.”

            Zachariah didn’t even bother to glance down at the folder.  He merely tilted his head, and in his usual condescending voice, said “Mr. Novak… we have already had this conversation.  Your _business_ does not generate enough revenue to merit a listing.  We list only the best, as I’ve told you before.”

            “Yes, you’ve said as much.  But if you will look at the information I’ve brought for you, you will see that my income has almost doubled in the last two months.  The Woods is an up and coming Bed and Breakfast and I believe both it and I have a lot to offer Ashwood’s tourism sector.”

            Zachariah did not frown, but Castiel saw the corner of his left eye twitch.  “I am sorry to say this, Mr. Novak, but two months is not long enough to determine real change in a business.  I’m afraid you will have to wait and see if your… _luck_ … holds out over the winter season.”

            Castiel wanted to fidget but he kept himself still—this was far from his first unpleasant conversation with this man.  “Last time we had this discussion, you told me to come back when I had doubled my income.  I have done so.  Now you tell me I will have to wait through the winter.  Is The Woods’ revenue really the issue here, or is it something else?”

            Zachariah kept his slimy smile in place as he asked “What else could the issue possibly be?”

            Castiel shifted his weight and narrowed his eyes.  “You have made no attempt to keep your general disdain for me a secret.  In fact, you have commented quite loudly upon it in public.  I do recall one particular incident during a town meeting….”

            Zachariah huffed and finally let the smile slide off his face.  “For God’s sake, Mr. Novak.  I could care less about your… _lifestyle…_ no matter how disreputable I believe it to be.  This is a business matter.  However, if you find you cannot remain professional… well, then I’m going to have to ask you to take your accusations and leave.”

            Castiel tightened his jaw.  He strode forward and snatched the folder from Zachariah’s desk.  “I will be back at the end of winter,” He bit out.  Then he stuffed the folder back into his satchel and strode out of the office, leaving the door open behind him.  He left the chamber of commerce as quickly as he could, ignoring Meg’s lazy taunt on his way out.


	4. Pamela's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For snarkymonkey. Consider this a dose of virtual cuddles.

            Dean would probably never admit it out loud, but the village of Ashwood was even prettier during the day.  All of the sturdy brick buildings were arranged around a central square that sported a gazebo and park benches, though now it and everything else was covered with a layer of snow that glinted in the sunlight.  The storefronts were neat, most of them boasting bright colored signs.  The buildings meshed well together even though they were painted different colors and even the bricks they were made of varied from one structure to the next.  The only buildings directly on the square that weren’t made of brick were a couple ancient looking houses and the village church, which was covered in white clapboard.  Dean wasn’t really a religious man—he hadn’t been to church since he was a kid—but even he was impressed with the understated elegance of the church, with its tall white steeple, bell tower, and plentiful stained-glass windows.  A cheery wreath hung on the front door, green pine decked with red ribbons.  Above the door, painted in a masculine yet flowing scrawl, was a plaque which read “Come to me, all ye who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”  He stared at the words for a while before he moved on.

            Dean moseyed around the square, hands tucked warmly into his pockets, jacket shrugged up tightly around his neck and shoulders, and took in his new home.  The village wasn’t busy, wasn’t swarming in ways he’d seen tourist traps swarm, but it wasn’t dead either.  Families, groups of elderly citizens, single men and women, all went about their business in the village, coming and going from shop to shop, taking time to point at the gazebo in the center of the square.  Two middle aged women were chatting happily on one of the benches when Dean passed, cardboard cups of something delicious grasped in their hands.  Dean flashed them a smile and a nod as he made his way past and they greeted him warmly, waving.  It was a hell of a lot different than what Dean was used to, but he figured he could get used to it.  After all, after the shrapnel and hellfire of the war, and the cold indifference of Kansas, maybe some small-town New England was just what he needed.

 

 

            Dean found a bookshop/record store that looked promising perched at the edge of the square.  It had a crazy rainbow colored awning that covered the door and front window of the shop.  A sign reading “Good Vibes” sat in the window.  “Huh,” Dean said, shrugging before venturing into the shop.  The place wasn’t big by any stretch of the word but it didn’t look hopeless either.  One side of the store was arranged with bookshelves stuffed with new and used books while the other side held rows of records and some tapes and CDs.  Dean had barely stepped through the door when he was greeted by a voice to his left.  He turned to see a man who was dressed in what looked like a robe sitting behind the counter.  “Hey man,” He called, smiling at Dean.  “Welcome to my humble shop.  Anything I can help you find?”  His eyes were a little red, maybe a bit watery, but he seemed happy enough.

            Dean shifted uncomfortably for a moment, unsure, before he coughed and said “Uh, I’m just looking.  Thanks though, uh…?”

            The guy smiled again and nodded easily.  “I’m Andy.  Holler if you need something, huh big guy?”

            Dean shot him a weird look out of the corner of his eye but gave a sharp nod in the affirmative before escaping into the shelves of books.  Guy was friendly but weird… maybe a bit _too_ friendly?  Or maybe he was high?  Dean shook off thoughts of Andy and allowed himself to get lost in the books for a while. 

            Since Dean had just started his new job, he didn’t really have any extra cash to blow on books, but it was nice just to browse and get the lay of the land.  At least now he knew that there was a decent bookstore in Ashwood, even if the owner was a bit…strange.

 

 

 

            After some more wandering, Dean finally decided to wait for Castiel in the local coffee shop.  The place was built of dark brick, painted a charcoal color, and had a purple awning. A large sign, painted in black script read _Pamela’s._ Dean pushed his way through the door and was blasted by warm, coffee-scented air, and the strains of The Ramones’ “Baby I Love You.”   Black lacquered tables spread out through the shop, surrounded by plush chairs in metallic colors.  The booths were black leather trimmed in a dark purple.  Dean had never been to a café like this before, but he had a feeling that he was gonna like it.  A gorgeous woman, tall, with dark curly hair and grey-green eyes stood behind the counter, grinning at Dean like a wolf as he made his way toward her.  She boldly looked him up and down then flashed her teeth and said in a purring voice “Hey there, handsome, what can I get ya?”

            Dean cleared his throat, shifted on his feet, and shot her one of his own knock-em-dead grins.  “Just a coffee, please, ma’am.”

            “Oooh, ma’am, huh?  Normally I’d be offended but when you say it with that twang, how can I be?  The name’s Pamela.  And who might you be?”

            “Dean.”

            “Well Dean, what kind of coffee do you want?”  Dean glanced at the labels and decided on the House Blend.  “So, on vacation?”  Pamela asked as she poured Dean a steaming cup of coffee.

            Dean cleared his throat and looked around the shop again.  “Uh, no.  Just moved here, actually.”

            Pamela quirked a brow “Oh yeah?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Well, I guess that means I’ll be seeing you around?”

            Dean took the warm cup into his hands, grateful for the balm against the cold, and said “Yeah, I’m sure you will.”  He winked at Pamela and then retreated to one of the tables against the window so he could watch the world outside.

 

 

 

            About an hour and another cup of coffee later, Dean saw Castiel walking across the square.  As he approached, Dean waved and was relieved to see Castiel wave back at him.  A moment later, the door of the café opened, carrying with it a blast of frigid air.  Castiel’s deep voice rumbled out a “Hello, Pamela.”  Dean was surprised when Pamela ducked from behind the counter and sauntered up to Castiel, giving him a firm hug and a kiss on the cheek along with a “Hey there, sweetheart.  Long time, no see.  How ya been?”

            Castiel smiled and Dean could see there were snowflakes melting in his dark hair. “I’ve been well.  Just very busy.”

            Pamela cooed a sympathetic noise and said “Well, you came to the right place to relax, sugar.  The usual?”

            Castiel glanced to the side where Dean was sitting, just for a moment, before he returned his attention to Pamela. “Would you mind making it to go?  I really should be heading back.  I only stopped in to pick up Dean.”

            Pamela’s eyebrows shot up her forehead before a smirk curled her lips and she flashed a look at Dean, then back to Castiel.  “Oh, really?”

            Castiel nodded politely.  “Yes.  I thought he might like to see Ashwood but I’m expecting other guests later this evening and I need to finish preparing.”  Castiel turned then, so that his bright blue eyes were focused on Dean.  “I apologize, I didn’t mean to ignore you, Dean.  Are you ready to go?”

            Dean gave Castiel a reassuring smile and stood to join the other man.  “Sure.”  They stared at each other for a moment and Dean debated whether he should ask Castiel about his day, but then Pamela’s voice chimed in once more.

            “Hey handsome,” she said, passing over a cup to each of them, “you never told me that you’re working for Cas.”

            Dean glanced at Castiel briefly before turning his eyes back to Pamela.  “Uh… I didn’t know it was a big deal?”

            Pamela smirked.  “You’re new here, Dean.  Ashwood’s a small place.  Of course it’s a big deal.”

            Castiel cleared his throat and murmured “Thank you for the coffee, Pamela.”

            Pamela waved his thanks away and said “No problem, hun.  You fellas come back and see me again when you’ve got some time, ya hear?”

            Castiel gave a curt nod.  “Of course.”

            Dean waved at Pamela and then pushed the door open, holding it for Castiel.  The other man flashed him a small, grateful smile, and Dean couldn’t help but grin back.  He glanced back once more before the door closed, just in time to see Pamela shoot him a broad wink.  _Well,_ Dean thought, as they walked back to the pick-up truck, _I wonder what that was all about._


	5. Settling In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy the chapter! Thanks for reading, and I'd love to hear from you :)

           

 

           They were mostly quiet on the way back, except for Castiel’s brief inquiry into how Dean liked Ashwood.  Dean told him he liked the town and asked Castiel about his day.  Castiel said it was alright.  The rest of the drive was silent, but it wasn’t strained or awkward.  It just was.

 

* * *

 

 

            Castiel hadn’t been lying.  When they got back to The Woods, Castiel double checked that all of the guest rooms were ready and then set to preparing dinner for the expected guests.  Tonight it was spaghetti with sinfully delicious smelling garlic bread. 

            Dean was loathe to abandon the warmth of the kitchen but he also had work to do.  He did a full walk around the outside of the B&B again, to make sure that everything was in order, and then he spent the rest of the daylight hours de-icing the pathways and knocking the short icicles from the roof overhang.  He was salting the front steps of the building and clearing the snow from around the front door when he noticed gouges in the paint.  He frowned and inched closer for a better look.  Smoothing his fingers over the strange patterns in the wood of the lintel, Dean realized that the marks were actually words that had been carved into the frame.  Upon a closer inspection, Dean was able to figure out the words spelled out “lux in tenebris.”  Dean frowned and made a mental note to look the words up later.

 

* * *

 

 

            The guests arrived just before dark and Dean tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible during their arrival.  He tucked himself away in the living room, in front of the crackling fire, and watched as Castiel welcomed a family of four: an elderly man and woman and presumably their two grown daughters.  Castiel flashed them an easy smile as he waved them into the warmth of the house and helped them to carry their luggage up to their rooms.  When he jogged back down the stairs, his cheeks were slightly pink and he had a broad smile on his face.

            Dean took the opportunity while the guests were currently busy to go into the kitchen and greet Cas with a soft smile.  “Looks like this group is gonna keep you busy, huh?” 

Castiel huffed and grinned, deep voice murmuring “Certainly, but I don’t mind.”

Dean watched Castiel start to plate up food and asked “Is there anything you’d like help with?”

            Castiel stopped with a plate of spaghetti in his hands and thought for a moment before shrugging and saying “No, but thank you, Dean.  I believe your work is done for the day.”

            Dean shifted on his feet, suddenly unsure.  He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and murmured “Alright, thanks man.  Should I just, uh… should I just grab some food and get outta your hair, then?”

            Castiel froze, a ladle full of sauce poised above a plate of noodles.  He sat it down slowly and turned to face Dean with a confused frown on his face.  “You don’t wish to eat with us?  Are you not feeling well?”

            Well, this was embarrassing.  How was Dean supposed to explain this without sounding like a dick?  Or an insecure teenager?  “Nah, I’m feeling fine.  I just uh… I didn’t want to intrude, ya know?  Being the help, and all.  I know we’ve got a lot of guests and I didn’t know what your policy was on… uh… that.”

            Castiel’s frown only deepened and Dean felt suddenly nervous when the other man circled the counter and came to stand just a tad too close.  Castiel placed a warm, gentle hand on Dean’s shoulder and his big blue eyes were earnest when he said “Dean….” And damn, Castiel had a way of saying his name that made it sound like it just meant something _more_ than that.  “You live here now, too.  I have no desire for you to feel like a second class citizen in your own home, and I don’t want anyone else to make you feel like that either.  So please, don’t think such things.  I want you to be comfortable here.”  And yeah, Dean definitely felt like a jackass now.  How could he have thought someone as nice as Castiel seemed to be would want to hide him away?  Blame Hollywood, maybe—with all of those movies where the help had to live in the attic and sneak around in back hallways.  Or maybe just the fact that Dean had never really worked in a service position before and wasn’t quite sure what the etiquette was.  But he figured he should probably toss his preconceptions if he didn’t want Castiel to give him that kicked puppy look again.  Which he was still doing.  So Dean gave a short nod and a tentative smile.  It had the desired effect.  Castiel let out a breath and took a step back.  “Please, Dean—have dinner with us?”  And who the hell could say no to an invitation like that? 

            So Dean ended up having dinner with Castiel and the Murphy family who were all in town for a ski trip.  The guests were polite but excited.  They complimented Castiel on the décor of the home and on his cooking: the spaghetti was a hit and Dean had to fight back a moan when he took his first bite.  When Castiel introduced Dean as the head of maintenance, Mrs. Murphy told him that he was doing a wonderful job on the upkeep and thanked Dean for keeping the paths cleared and safe.  Okay, so maybe Castiel was right after all….

 

* * *

 

 

            After dinner, Dean helped Castiel to clean up (despite the other man’s protests) and at 9pm, they said their goodnights.  Dean retreated to his room, which was warm and welcoming just like he remembered, and was grateful to have a moment to himself.  It had been a long day, a good one, but long, and he’d been waiting for the opportunity to call his brother.  So Dean kicked off his shoes and flopped down on the bed, pulling his cell out as he did so.

            The call rang twice before a calm, deep voice on the other end answered “Hello?  Dean?”

            Dean felt the inevitable smile curl his lips.  “Hey, Sammy.  I didn’t wake you, did I?  I meant to call earlier, but I was busy.”

            Sam huffed and Dean could imagine the smile on his brother’s face.  “No, you’re fine.  I was just reading a chapter for class.  Are you at the B&B?  Did you make it okay?”

            “Yeah, I’m here.  Flight got delayed ‘cause of the snow, but I made it alright.”

            “ _And?_ ” Sam prompted, “How is it?  How is your new boss, this Mr. Novak guy?  Is he an old, bald, fat guy like you thought?”

            Dean couldn’t help chuckling.  “It’s good.  It’s, uh—look, you repeat this and I’ll tell everyone you paint your nails and cry like a girl, capiche?”

            Sam snorted.  “Got it.  So, spill.”

            Dean felt his smile turn soft again as he thought back through the last day and a half.  “This place is kind of beautiful, if I’m being honest.”  He waited for Sam to ridicule him on his word choice, but when no comment was forthcoming, Dean continued.  “I expected the place to be fancy, ya know, kind of over the top?  But it’s not.  It’s actually pretty low key, but comfortable ya know?  Cozy.  Also, dude, my room is awesome.  And I get my own bathroom.”

            Now Sam did snort.  “Wow, man, you are so lucky.  I have to share a bathroom with like, 20 guys.”

            Dean rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, well, been there, done that, Sammy.  Do your time.”

            His brother chuckled.  “So how’s Novak?  He a slave driver?”

            Dean couldn’t help the laugh that burst out at that mental image. “Nah, Sammy, he was nothing like I pictured him.  Cas is actually a pretty young guy—around my age, maybe a couple years older.  And he’s actually, uh… really nice.  He makes awesome pie.”

            Dean could practically _hear_ Sam smirking through the phone.  “So _Cas_ makes pie.  What else?”

            Dean scowled into the phone.  Okay, so he wasn’t sure where the nickname came from either, but so what?  He was pretty sure Cas—Castiel—would be cool with it.  Right?  “Are you gonna be a little bitch if I tell you more?  ‘Cause you know, I can just hang up and go to bed….”

            His brother chuckled, softer this time, like he was trying to muffle the sound.  “No, no.  I promise I’ll behave.  So what does he have you doing?”

            “Uh, not much, to be honest.  You know I wasn’t really sure about this walking into it, but he mostly has me clearing snow and helping out as things come up.”

            “Wow, well… that sounds pretty relaxing.”

            “Yeah.”  Dean closed his eyes and allowed himself a small smile.  “Yeah, I think it will be.”

            “So you do a little shoveling and a little maintenance and you’ve got a place to live _and_ a paycheck?  Lucky jerk.”

            Now it was Dean’s turn to smirk into the phone.  “Don’t forget the food, Sammy.  The guy’s an awesome cook.  And he _likes_ it.  Seems like there’s always something cooking.  The place smells like heaven.”

            “Huh.  So uh… Cas.  What’s he look like?”

            “ _Sam_ ,” Dean warned.

            “No, I don’t mean it like that, Dean.  I’m just curious.  I mean, you had me picturing this old, bald, fat guy and now I’ve got to rearrange my mental picture.  Help a guy out, huh?”

            Dean knew it was a trick—no way to win with Sam—but he relented anyway.  He huffed a sigh.  “Fine.  He’s pretty tall—almost as tall as me, but not a freaking sasquatch like you.” He could hear Sam scoff in protest and Dean smirked for his trouble.  “And he’s got dark hair—almost black—and blue eyes.”

            “Fat?”  Sam prompted.

            “No way.  He’s uh… I dunno, um.  Lean without being scrawny.  Like a runner.  You know what I mean?”

            “And he makes pie?”

            “Hell yeah.  He fed me boysenberry within an hour of meeting.  And it was fucking fantastic.”

            He could hear the smug smirk again as Sam asked “So when’s the wedding?”

            Dean scowled at the phone and drawled “I’m hanging up now, bitch.  Talk to you later.”  He could still hear Sam cackling in the background as he ended the call.


	6. Entertaining Angels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this cozy, fluffy chapter after all the heartache of this week's episode!

           

 

           They fell into a schedule fairly quickly.  They were both early risers and whoever was up first made coffee though Cas insisted on being the one to cook for all the guests.  Dean was happy to sit in the little nook in the kitchen and watch as Cas whipped up a delicious breakfast each morning: he was very creative and his food was always awesome.  Dean would never admit it out loud, but it made him smile to see how genuinely happy Cas was to have guests and to serve them to the best of his ability.  It was strange, but making the guests happy seemed to please Cas and when Cas smiled, Dean couldn’t help but follow. 

            During the days, Dean went about his own business, shoveling the snow that accumulated over night, knocking icicles from the eaves, and helping where he was needed.  At first, Cas had maintained that he would do all the cooking, all the interior cleaning, and all of the administrative work.  But when Dean had finished with all of his work on the second day and watched as Cas had bustled around trying to get things done, he’d decided that the current arrangement was a load of crap.  So, against Cas’s protests, Dean had insisted upon doing the laundry and putting fresh linens in the guest rooms.  Cas had tried to logic Dean out of helping, calmly reminding Dean “Cleaning isn’t in your job description and I am more than capable.”  After which Dean had pointed out “Yeah, but right now you’re busy with other things and I’m not, so I’m gonna go ahead and fold these sheets, alright?”  Cas had given him a strange look but he eventually caved.  And if Dean caught Cas watching him out of the corner of his eye while he loaded dishes into the dishwasher later that day, he didn’t mention it.

 

* * *

 

 

            On Sunday, a week after Dean had arrived to The Woods, he came down the stairs to see that Cas was up even earlier than usual.  He was dressed in a white dress shirt and black slacks and Dean could see that he’d made an effort to tame his hair.  The kitchen smelled like coffee and the banquet warmer was filled with pancakes and bacon.  “Mornin’, Cas.  You’re up early.”

            Cas flashed Dean an easy smile and said “Yes.  I always wake early on Sundays so that I can help Joshua prepare for morning services at the church.”

            Dean raised a brow in curiosity as he maneuvered around the other man to fill a mug with coffee.  “Joshua the pastor?”

            “Yes.  He’s a good man and a friend of mine.  He is old enough now that some things are becoming difficult for him, especially in this weather.”  Cas motioned toward the window.  “He has arthritis, so I help when I can.”

            Dean took a sip of the coffee—it was dark and strong like always—and murmured “That’s real nice of you, Cas.”

            Cas waved off the compliment though Dean could see a slight pink stain his cheeks.  “It’s nothing.”  He cleared his throat and added “I will be leaving shortly; you are welcome to come along, if you’d like.  I’m sure everyone would be very pleased to meet you.”

            Dean shifted on his feet.  “Uh, I appreciate the offer, man, but church isn’t really my thing.”

            Cas tilted his head slightly and studied Dean, blue eyes honest and searching, before he eventually shrugged and said “Alright.  Well, our guests are scheduled to leave later this morning, and we don’t have another reservation until tomorrow afternoon.  I suppose it will just be you here for most of the day.”

            Dean shrugged “I don’t mind.  Is there anything special you want me to work on while you’re gone?”

            Cas scrunched up his nose in thought and said “Ah, yes, actually.  The faucet in guestroom B has been dripping.  Would you mind?”

            Dean chuckled.  “Sure thing, Cas.  Have fun at church.”  Dean snagged a pancake on his way out of the room and went in search of his tools.

 

 

 

            Dean was already under the sink tightening the pipes when he heard the rumble of Cas’s truck leave the house.  The sink didn’t take long at all and when Dean was finished, he made his way back down stairs.  The group of three young women were in the dining room eating the breakfast that Cas had left out for them when Dean entered the kitchen.  There was still some coffee left, so Dean poured himself another cup and glanced out the window.  It was snowing again, nothing more than light flurries in an otherwise light gray sky.  Dean took his mug and wandered into the dining room.  “Morning, ladies.”  He said, nodding to them.  They all greeted him with smiles and mumbled “mornings”.  “Cas says you’re taking off this morning?”

            One of the young women swallowed a bite of pancake and said “Yeah, our flight leaves later this afternoon.”  She blushed, smiling hopefully “Is Cas around?”

            “Nah, he’s at church this morning.”

            “Oh,” The girl frowned, obviously disappointed.  “Well, will you pass on our compliments?  This place was wonderful and Cas was such a kind, gracious host.  We will definitely recommend this place.”

            Dean smiled fondly.  “Yeah, I’ll tell him.”

 

 

 

            Dean’s chores were done before noon so he cleaned up the kitchen, eating the leftover food for lunch.  The snow hadn’t stopped but it hadn’t gotten any worse than it had been all morning.  Cas still wasn’t back by 2:00 so Dean decided to take a walk.  He put on his heaviest coat over his layers of t-shirt and plaid, and strapped on his snow boots.  He scribbled a quick note to let Cas know where he was going, and then he set out.

            Snow swirled in flurries around Dean as he made his way along the path that circled the house.  Cas had told him that the path led to a pond that froze nicely in the winter and carried on over some open fields before it swung back around to the main road.  He didn’t mind the cold, hell, he didn’t even mind the snow.  Dean was just thankful for the silence, for the opportunity to just think for a bit without interruption.

            His new life wasn’t what he thought it would be.  The first surprise had been The Woods.  It wasn’t what Dean had pictured a B&B to be, but he had to admit the reality was better.  It felt more like a home than it did a business, more laid back, and he could really appreciate that.  The next surprise had been Cas.  When Dean had done the phone interview with Mr. Castiel Novak, he’d assumed certain things about the man—that he was old, rich, and probably a bit stuck up.  What he found was a man who derived actual pleasure from making other people happy, who put all of his effort into making his home comfortable for other people.  And he was about as far from pretentious as a guy could get.  Maybe the biggest surprise, though, was how Dean was already getting used to being here, how he was already falling into a pattern.  There was still a week left of November and already Dean knew that this winter would be much better than the last, when he’d been stuck running a checkpoint in Afghanistan.

            Still, Dean hadn’t expected that he’d relax as easily as he had.  He normally wasn’t the kind of guy to overshare and trust new people.  But there was something about both this place and his new boss that just took the fight right out of him.  

 

 

            Dean had been so concerned with his own musings that he nearly walked right into the pond.  When he looked up and realized where he was, he also noticed that the snow had gotten much heavier—he could barely see the path in front of him.  He cast an anxious look back the way he’d come; would it be quicker to go back that way or continue on to the road?  Dean decided to carry on the way he’d been going.  He knew it was ridiculous to worry so much, but part of him was nervous that he’d get lost and wander blindly through the woods if he went back the other way.  He _had_ almost run into the frozen lake, after all.  At least if he continued on, he’d eventually run into the road.

            He hitched his coat closer around his shoulders and trudged on, hands buried in his pockets.  The heavy downfall quickly got worse.  Dean sped up his pace, his boots sinking further into the accumulating snow. 

He walked for another twenty minutes, his clothes growing wet and stiff in the freezing air, and was almost to the road when he heard it.  He stopped, tilted his head to see if he could catch the sound again.  A low whine.  And then another one, long and mournful.  Dean turned toward the stand of trees and crouched down near a fallen log, where the noise seemed to be coming from.  Through the blanket of snow, Dean found a little ball of black fur and big hazel eyes gazing back at him.  The puppy shivered violently and whined again.

            The puppy didn’t resist when Dean scooped it out of the snow and held it close.  “Hold on little guy,” Dean muttered, unzipping his jacket.  He wrapped the puppy in the layers of cotton and flannel and re-zipped his jacket.  The puppy snuggled in warmly, shaking against Dean’s chest.  Dean looked around him, almost expecting to see someone looking for the dog, but there was no one.  What was the puppy doing out here in the middle of a snowstorm?  No matter.  Dean wrapped his arms firmly around the shivering lump and resumed his trek.

            The road wasn’t much better than the path had been.  Several inches had fallen already and it was coming down so heavy now that Dean could barely see the road in front of him.  He hadn’t seen a real blizzard since he was a boy and he wondered if that’s what this was.  Surely the house couldn’t be too far away, though?  It felt like Dean had been walking forever already.

            Suddenly, Dean heard a rumbling through the pressing silence of the falling snow and then the road was bathed in the glow of headlights approaching from behind him.  Dean ducked to the side of the road, afraid of being run down because of the crappy visibility, but the vehicle came to a stop not too far away.  A door creaked open and Dean could just make out the dark shape of a figure approaching.  “Dean?  Is that you?”  Cas’ voice was strained and sounded somehow…dampened, through the falling snow.

            “Cas?”  He called.  He immediately heard a sigh of relief.  Dean headed for the truck.

            “Dean, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.  Come on, get in the truck.”  Dean’s hands were numb when he pulled the door open and clambered inside.  On the other side of the truck, Cas also climbed back into the truck.  “I’ve been worried.”  His voice was a warm rumble, still laced with concern.

            The puppy took that moment to let out another soulful whine.  Cas’s brows furrowed in confusion and he focused his attention on Dean’s chest.  Dean chuckled and unzipped his jacket far enough for the puppy’s furry little head to poke out of the nest of layers.  “Look what I found.”  Cas’s blue eyes widened in surprise but he seemed to have been struck speechless.  After a long moment of awestruck staring, he put the truck in drive and they rumbled slowly down the road.

 

 

           

            The first thing Dean did when they returned to the warmth of The Woods was to jog up to his room and strip off his frozen clothes.  He hung them in the bathroom to dry and pulled on dry jeans and a warm gray Henley. The puppy watched him mournfully from where it sat huddled in his plaid over shirt on the bed.  As soon as Dean was finished, he wrapped the puppy in a fluffy towel and did his best to dry the freezing water from the soaking black fur.  When Dean was satisfied that the puppy was as dry as it was gonna get, he scooped it up and headed downstairs.  He and the puppy found Cas standing uncertain in the kitchen.

            “Hey Cas, do we have anything this little guy,”  he glanced down at the dog curled in his arms and amended “er… girl… can eat?”  Cas gave a sharp nod and began digging through the fridge.  Dean watched as the other man set to chopping up some leftover chicken and then set a bowl with the meat on the floor for the puppy.  A second later, a bowl of water joined it.  Dean sat the puppy on the floor and watched with cautious eyes as she wandered forward unsteadily and took a hesitant bite. 

            Dean raised his eyes to Cas then and asked “So… you came looking for me?”

            Cas rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, blushing slightly, and replied “Well… yes.  You’d left the note saying you were going for a walk, and when it started snowing and you weren’t back… I stared to worry.”  He huffed out a breath. “So I took the truck to find you.”

            Dean felt his own blush coming on so he turned his attention back to the puppy, who was now chowing down on the chicken.  Without raising his eyes, Dean murmured “Thanks.”

            “You’re welcome.”

 

 

            After the puppy was sated, Dean scooped her up and retreated to the living room.  His legs were tired, the muscles exhausted from the cold, and he was grateful for the softness of the couch when he sank into it.  The puppy curled up on his lap and fell asleep almost instantly.  Dean understood completely.  He was tired too, so he tipped his head back to rest against the cushions, and closed his eyes.

            He must have started to drift off, because he jerked awake when he heard Cas softly call his name.  When Dean blinked his eyes open, he saw Cas standing in the entryway holding two mugs.  A strange, fond look graced his face.  Dean decided not to comment.  When he pulled himself upright, Cas handed him one of the steaming mugs.  Dean shivered, accepting the hot drink gratefully.  He looked down into the dark liquid and took a deep breath.  “Hot chocolate?”

            Cas smiled bashfully.  “I thought you might like something to help you warm up.”  He turned his eyes to Dean’s lap and the exhausted ball of fur sprawled there.  “It looks like you’ve made a friend.”

            Dean smiled down at the puppy.  “Yeah, I dunno what this little girl was doing alone in the woods, but she’s lucky I found her.  A little longer and she would have frozen.”

            Cas took a sip of his hot chocolate and hummed.  “Maybe it was fate.”

            Dean chuckled.  “Fate?”

            “Hmm… what’s that saying about entertaining angels?”

            Dean frowned.  “Cas, it’s a dog.”  Cas just shrugged, undeterred.  “Besides, it’s not like she can stay.”

            Cas turned back to him again, a slight frown on his lips.  “Why not?”

            Dean felt like the floor had just been jerked from under him.  He opened his mouth to reply—closed it—then took a breath and said slowly “Um… this is your business.  A dog would only make a mess and disturb your guests.  Right?”

            Cas tilted his head slightly, eyes wide, and considered Dean for a moment.  It was definitely _not_ adorable.  Not at all.  “Or a dog might be just what this place needs.  Dogs mean home, don’t they? ”  He looked back at his mug of hot chocolate and murmured “Would keeping her make you happy?”

            Dean looked down at the puppy just in time to see her little black nose twitch while she slept.  Dean’s throat and chest suddenly felt tight with emotion.  He looked away and cleared his throat.  “Yeah, Cas.”  He whispered, “Yeah, I think it would.”

            Cas tilted his head again so that he could look at the puppy.  “What are you going to name her?”

            They sat silently for a while after that, sipping their hot chocolate and watching the fire devour the wood in the fireplace.  “Tessa.”  Dean murmured, stroking the soft black fur while the puppy slept on.

 

 

            That night, when Dean fell asleep with the little puppy curled up on the bed next to him, Dean couldn’t help but think that yeah, this place was starting to feel like home, and it wasn’t just because of a puppy.


	7. Making Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To my American readers: Have a happy Thanksgiving! To everyone else: Enjoy the chapter ;)

           

 

            “So wait, let me get this straight.  You got a dog?”  Dean grunted into the phone.  “Dean, you’ve never had a pet in your life, and suddenly you have a dog?”

            Dean huffed in annoyance at his harping baby brother.  “Well, it’s not like I exactly planned it, Sam.  I told you, I found her in the woods during a snowstorm.  What was I supposed to do?  Leave her there?”

            He could feel Sam’s bitchface over the phone.  “No, of course not.  You know that’s not what I meant.  But I mean… don’t they have a shelter or something around there?”

            Dean sighed and ran a hand over the back of his neck.  “Yeah, well that’s what I asked too.  But uh… Cas said I should keep her.  If I wanted.”

            Sam’s end of the line went silent for far too long.  Dean decided to wait his brother out, though—no way was he gonna be the one to cave.  So he went about folding his laundry while his brother ruminated on that news.  Tessa was snoring away, happily snuggled in the pile of clean linen.  Finally, Sam ventured “Cas told you to keep the dog?  What about his B&B?”

            Dean shrugged.  “That’s what I asked, too, but he didn’t seem to care.  Said maybe it was fate or something.  I dunno.  Personally, I just think he likes her and didn’t want to see her go.”

            “You think so?”

            “Yeah, he’s got a soft spot for her.  He’s always sneaking her pieces of meat when he thinks I’m not watching, and he lets her curl up in his lap and he scratches her ears.”

            Sam’s tone was droll “Sounds adorable.”

            Dean rolled his eyes.  “Shut up, bitch.  Anyway, what were you calling for?  I know it wasn’t to listen to me talk about Tessa.”

            “Actually, I was wondering what your Christmas plans were.”  Dean remained silent, because honestly?  He had no Christmas plans.  “I mean, you moved all the way across the country so that we could be close.  I want to spend Christmas with you, Dean.”

            Dean sighed.  “Look, Sammy, I know.  I wanna spend Christmas with you too, but I haven’t been at this job for very long, and it wouldn’t feel right to ask Cas for time off, especially for the holiday.  He says the B&B can get pretty busy.”

            “Fine.  I thought you might say that, anyway.  That’s why I came up with a plan B.”

            “Plan B?” Dean asked warily.  “Enlighten me.”

            “Well, I was thinking I could come to Ashwood and visit you!  You know, rent a room somewhere and stay a couple days so that at least we’d be close.”

            “No way, Sammy.  Do you know how expensive rooms are in this place?  It’s a cutesy little resort town, and it’ll be a busy week.”

            “So?  I don’t care, Dean.  I want to come and see you.”

            Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Alright, alright.  Look, let me talk to Cas, see if maybe we can arrange to have you stay with me in my room, or something.  Okay?”

            Sam chuckled.  “Fine.  Let me know when you talk to him.  Anyway, I’ve got class soon so I’m gonna go.  Talk to ya later, jerk.”

            Dean couldn’t help grinning.  “Hurry up and get to class, bitch.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

            Tessa liked to follow Dean around while he shoveled snow and de-iced the house.  He’d never say it aloud, but he thought it was adorable watching her little furry black body leaping through the snow to keep pace with him. 

So yeah, it was a bit strange to suddenly have a dog to take care of when he’d never had a pet before, but Tessa was really growing on him.  She seemed to know that Dean had saved her from a frosty death, or else maybe she just like the cuddles he gave her, but she was a loyal little furball.  She followed him around the house while he did his chores, only abandoning him to curl up and go to sleep when her energy finally ran out or when Cas was cooking.  Dean had tried to teach her to stay out of the kitchen—it wasn’t the best place for a pet, but Cas was spoiling her already, sneaking her food.  Dean had already given it up as a lost cause.  If the boss didn’t mind, who was Dean to argue?

 

 

* * *

 

 

            Later that evening, after the guests had been fed their dinner of chicken parmesan and Dean and Cas were cleaning up the kitchen, Dean cleared his throat and decided to broach the subject of Christmas.  It was still three weeks away, but it was best to get all the details sorted now.  “Hey Cas, can I uh… can I talk to you about Christmas for a sec?”

            Cas placed another plate in the dishwasher then turned to give Dean his full attention.  It still came as a shock, sometimes, what exactly Cas’s full attention felt like, when his big, sincere blue eyes focused on Dean’s face like there was nothing more important in the world in that moment but whatever Dean had to say.  “Of course, Dean.  What is it?”

            Dean rubbed a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly.  “Sammy wants to spend Christmas together.  I told him that Christmas is real busy here at the B&B, but the kid is kind of stubborn.  He said he wants to get a room in town for a few days, but that’s wicked expensive and he’s just a college kid, ya know?”  Dean paused to gauge Cas’s reaction, but the other man’s demeanor hadn’t changed except that he’d tilted his head in a way that made him look almost like a curious puppy.  “So, uh… I was wondering.  If maybe, I dunno, maybe Sammy could stay here, share my room with me for a couple days?  I mean, I’d pay for his food and everything, you wouldn’t have to worry about it, and I wouldn’t let him distract me from my work or anything—”  Cas raised a hand to stop Dean’s rambling and he cut his words off immediately.

            “Dean, don’t be ridiculous.  I know you would still do your job, and I wouldn’t ask you to pay extra for your brother.  You work plenty hard as it is.  I understand that you’d want to spend the holiday with your brother, and since we will be so busy, I see no reason why Sam shouldn’t come here.  I think we have a spare cot we can set up in your room if that works for you?”

            Dean could feel his grin light up his face.  He reacted without thinking, moving forward to wrap the other man in a hug.  He only realized what he was doing when his arms circled Cas’s waist and the other man stiffened in shock.  Dean pulled back quickly, and struggled to fight off his blush.  “Uh, thanks, man.  I really appreciate it.”

            Dean dared a glance up at Cas to see that the other man was blushing too.  “You’re very welcome, Dean.”

            There was a strange sort of tension in the kitchen after that, as Dean and Cas moved around each other, but Dean decided to ignore it.  After everything was cleaned and put away, Dean excused himself to go call Sam and tell him the good news.  And if Dean couldn’t help thinking of the way that Cas had felt in that short moment, pulled close and wrapped in his arms, well, no one else had to know, right?


	8. Almost Like Home...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the fluff darlings <3

          

 

           The kitchen was warm and smelled like gingerbread—Castiel had spent the whole morning baking cookies for the guests that were due to arrive early the next morning.  The cookies, cut into the shapes of little men, trees, and candy canes were spread out on the cooling racks on the counter now.  They had to sit before Castiel could ice them.  But it didn’t matter.  Castiel loved this time in between when the kitchen was still so toasty from the lingering warmth of the oven and the scent hung thick in the air. 

            He was settled at the little alcove, comfortable in his favorite chair with the light from the bay windows shining down on him.  His laptop was open before him and he steadily worked through his spread sheets, detailing expenses and going over lists of supplies that he needed to put on order.  He took a sip of his herbal tea, savoring the sweet hint of honey that lingered on his tongue.  The house was mostly silent, except for his occasional tapping at the keyboard, but Castiel was lulled by the steady thunking sound coming from outside where Dean was busy chopping wood for the living room fireplace. 

            Castiel tore his eyes away from The Woods website to glance out of the window.  From where he was sitting, he had a perfect view of the other man.  It was cold today, cold enough that Castiel would need to layer to go outside, but some time during his chopping, Dean must have started to get hot, maybe sweat, because his large, thick overcoat had been shucked off and was now resting on a pile of logs.  The sun was shining, and the pale gold light highlighted the lighter tones of Dean’s hair, giving his face color so that it didn’t look so pale against the snow.  Dean was wearing faded blue jeans and his usual scuffed black boots.  A thick green sweater covered his torso but Dean had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows so that when he swung the ax clasped tightly in his strong, capable hands, Castiel could see the muscles in his forearms flex. 

            Under the table, Tessa snuffled and curled closer to Castiel’s feet.  He wore socks, but he could still feel the warmth of the puppy’s body through the fabric and it made him smile.  Tessa wasn’t his dog, really, she was Dean’s, but Castiel would be lying if he said that the addition of her hadn’t made him happy. 

Castiel had been happy to work with Jo for all the time that she’d been there, had enjoyed their banter and her constant nagging of him.  He even enjoyed when Ellen would stop by to bring them lunch from the diner.  But it had never felt like this.

            Something had changed when Dean stepped through his door, something that Castiel had never even given thought to, something he couldn’t have imagined even if he’d tried.  Something Castiel had never even thought to look for.  It was silly to think it, maybe, foolish to already feel so attached and invested in this feeling, but….  For the first time since Castiel had bought The Woods and turned it into a Bed and Breakfast, the house actually felt like a home.

 

 

* * *

 

 

            Dean had always liked doing physical work, hard labor.  Especially the repetitive jobs where he didn’t have to think so much.  It had always been an escape for him.  In the army he’d been a mechanic and yeah, he’d had to pay close attention but there were still jobs where he could zone out.  He hadn’t minded marching and drills for that very reason.  But now was different.  He had a rhythm going—heft the ax, bring it down, split the wood.  Place another log on the block.  Repeat.  It would be easy to zone out, to go someplace else.  And not too long ago, Dean would be grateful for that escape—to be able to _not_ think about his life, at least for a little while. 

            Now, though, Dean was present.  He was here, in the backyard of The Woods B&B, chopping wood for the fireplace because it was his job, but also because he wanted to.  Cas hadn’t even asked him—Dean knew his job by now, had gotten comfortable with just doing what needed to be done, sometimes even despite the other man’s half-hearted protests.  When Dean had descended the stairs that morning, he’d noticed the basket by the fireplace was nearly empty and so after his usual morning chores, he’d gone about chopping the wood to refill it. 

            It wasn’t just about duty, though.  That’s what was different about this place.  Dean wasn’t chopping wood for anonymous customers who would breeze through his life without making a mark.  The Woods didn’t feel like that, for one.  Cas always made such an effort to make everyone feel at home.  And even when the people didn’t linger for more than a few days, they never felt like customers while they were there.  They were guests.  And their laughter and easy smiles, and compliments, and promises to come back again proved that they knew the difference.  But it was more than that, even, that kept Dean grounded now.  He lived here.  This was more than where he worked, this was his place of residence, and he already felt so comfortable here.  When he de-iced the path and cleared the snow, he knew it was also his front drive that he was clearing.  When he chopped the firewood, he knew that later tonight, he was probably going to curl up in the living room with Tessa and Cas and enjoy the warmth it produced.  Doing these little things might not seem like a lot, might be part of his job description, but Dean actually enjoyed doing them.  He swung the ax again, felt the tension in the handle as the wood split under the blade.  He wasn’t chopping wood for his boss.  He was chopping wood to heat his own home.  And _that_ was the difference.

 

 

 

            Even through the steady sounds of chopping, Dean could hear the footfalls of boots on the cleared path as they steadily approached.  He turned his head just slightly, paused in his movements to wipe an arm across his brow to clean the sweat away.  Cas wandered around the side of the house, bundled in a thick brown jacket that made him look nearly twice his size.  Tessa was curled warmly in his arms—she wagged her tail as they approached.  Dean didn’t bother fighting off his own grin.  “Hey Cas, hey girl, what are the two of you up to?”

            Cas grinned back at him—his cheeks were already flushed from the cold.  “Hello, Dean.”  He casually scratched Tessa behind the ears as he held her.  “Since we don’t have any guests arriving until tomorrow morning, I was thinking of going into town to visit Pamela and get a coffee.  Would you like to come?”

            Dean set the ax down on the block and grinned.  “That sounds awesome right now.”

            “I was thinking we could take Tessa too.  I think Pamela would like her.”

            Dean quirked an eyebrow, “Won’t she be upset that you brought a dog into her coffee shop?”

            Cas shrugged.  “Not at all.  She loves dogs.  Also, Ashwood is actually a very dog friendly place.  It’s quite common for someone to bring their pets with them into the shops.”

            “Alright, if you say so, man.  Let me just go get cleaned up.”

            Cas’s smile was sunny.  “Great.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Tessa sat between them in the truck on the drive into Ashwood, tongue lolling as she watched the scenery fly by, excited for the adventure.  Cas was a cautious driver, so he kept both hands on the wheel, but when they came to a stop sign, he allowed his right hand to stray for a moment, patting Tessa on the head.  Dean couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.  He quickly glanced out of his own window so that Cas wouldn’t see.

 

* * *

 

 

            Pamela actually _cooed_ when Dean and Cas came through the door, toting Tessa.  Dean held her warm, furry body in his arms and asked “Hey, mind if we bring this little one in with us?”  Dean was pretty sure that Pamela dashing around the counter to pet the puppy was answer enough.

            “Oh my God!”  Pamela gushed, “When did you guys get a puppy?”

            Dean felt himself blush at the implication.  Luckily, Cas took that moment to sidle up next to Dean and murmur in his deep, calming voice “Tessa belongs to Dean.  He found her in the woods the day of the last big snow storm.”

            Pamela grinned “That’s adorable.”  Her hand found Tessa’s thick black fur and the puppy made a hushed little sound of satisfaction.  “So what brings you boys in today?”

            Cas shrugged.  “We don’t have guests at the moment so I thought it would be nice to come in for a visit.”

            “Aww, you’re gonna make me blush, sweetheart.  Why don’t you both go take a seat and I’ll come and get your orders in a sec, hmm?”

            “Of course.”  So Dean and Cas made their way over to one of the comfortable black leather booths in the corner.  Tessa curled up on the seat next to Dean and fell asleep.  It was nice here, Dean thought again.  Some old school rock music was playing in the background, but it was too quiet for Dean to identify. 

            A few moments later, Pamela arrived at their table with their coffees and she squeezed into the booth next to Cas, flashing him a look that promised someday she’d eat him up.  “So how are you boys doing?”

            Cas shrugged one shoulder, non-committal.  “We are doing well, I think,”  He shot Dean an anxious look across the table to which Dean grinned and said “Definitely.”  Satisfied, Cas grinned back and said “We are about to start the Christmas rush soon, but the B&B is in good order.”

            Pamela looked between the both of them covertly, a smirk on her lips.  “So business is good, Cas?”

            “So far, yes.  I hope that we will stay busy through the holidays.”  He shifted uneasily and took a long drink of his coffee.  “Can’t really afford not to be, not if I ever want to make it to the Chamber of Commerce listings.”

            Pamela frowned.  “Cas, you know damn well your income is _not_ why you haven’t been listed yet.”

            Dean cocked his head, curious.  This was the first time he’d heard anything about the Chamber of Commerce.  “Then why not?”  He asked innocently.

            Pamela’s eyes narrowed dangerously and she bared her teeth in a scary impersonation of a grin.  “Well, sweetheart, it’s because Zachariah is a lowlife, homophobic jerk.”  Cas and Dean’s eyes both widened at the same time, though Cas looked panicked and his voice was a low, anxious growl when he warned “Pamela…” and shook his head almost imperceptibly.  Dean’s eyes were still wide at the drop of that new information and Cas shifted uncomfortably on his side of the table.  Pamela glanced between the two of them, confused, before she sighed and said “Shit.  He didn’t know, did he?”  Cas gave a short shake of his head and Dean suddenly felt like a real jerk.

            So Dean sat up straighter, cleared his throat, and said “No, I didn’t know.  But it doesn’t matter.”  Cas raised wary blue eyes to Dean’s face as though he were trying to catch the other man out in a lie.  Dean refused to look away, and when Cas reached a hand out for his mug, Dean reached across the table until his fingers could brush across the back of Cas’s hand, just for a second.  “I mean it, Cas.”  They continued to stare at each other until Cas nodded, blushing, and lowered his eyes to take a sip of coffee.

            “Well….” Pamela started, but she was saved from an awkward segue by the sound of the shop door opening and a middle aged woman dressed in jeans and a flannel lined jacked making her way to their table.  She paused next to them, hip cocked out, arms crossed over her chest, and she said in a warm, slightly twangy voice “Hey there hun, it’s been forever since I’ve seen you.  Where you been hidin’?”  Dean glanced between the woman and Cas. 

            His boss flashed the woman a tired smile.  “Hello Ellen.  It’s good to see you.  How’d you know I was here?”

            “Pam called me up, said you’d come around for a visit, so I figured I should stop by.”  The woman glanced at Dean and raised her eyebrows, assessing him.  “And who might you be?”

            Dean cleared his throat, nervous for some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on.  “Dean Winchester, ma’am,” Dean greeted, extending his hand.  The woman met him with a warm but firm shake that surprised but pleased Dean.

            “So you’re Dean, huh?  Bout time I meet you.  And call me Ellen—I don’t care for all that ma’am stuff.”  Ellen turned her eyes back to Cas.  “This is the one that took Jo’s place?”

            Cas gave a short, even nod.  “Yes, though I actually do most of what Jo did and Dean does maintenance.”

            Ellen flashed Dean a grin and raised her eyebrows.  “He any good?”

            Warmth spread through Dean’s belly when Cas sat up straighter and answered “Yes.  Dean is very good at what he does.”

            Ellen’s smile was friendly, but there was a warning in her eyes when she glanced back to Dean and said “Good.  Don’t you mistreat him, you hear me?”

            Dean scratched Tessa behind the ears and met Ellen’s look with a solemn one of his own.  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”


	9. Favors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so short, guys. But I promise the next one will be much longer AND full of shenanigans ;)

           

 

           “Well, that was an interesting visit.”  Dean said as he and Cas left Pamela’s and began the trek back to the truck.  Tessa trotted along next to them, tail wagging happily in the cold, clean air.

            “Hmm… yes.”  Cas murmured.  He tucked his hands in his pockets and kept pace with Dean, though he kept flashing him looks out of the corner of his eye when he thought that Dean wasn’t looking.  Finally, he cleared his throat and, still looking straight forward, started “Dean—I’m sorry if you feel uncomfortable now, after what Pamela said.”

            “What?”  Dean stopped and laid a hand on Cas’s arm, effectively stopping him too.  “Dude, no.”  Cas warily raised his eyes to Dean’s.  “Nothing like that.”  Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  “It’s just… what Pamela said about Zachariah… why didn’t you say anything?”

            Cas folded his arms over his chest defensively.  “There’s really nothing to say about it, Dean.”

            “But Pamela said….”

            “I know what she said.  But there’s nothing to be done about it.  He refuses to list my business until I jump through his hoops, so what else is there for me to do except jump through them?”

            Dean frowned.  “No, man.  That’s just not right.  That’s discrimination.  Couldn’t you get a lawyer or something?”

            Cas laughed then, but it was a bitter sound—a sound Dean had never heard from the other man before, and he didn’t like it one bit.  “I couldn’t afford one if I wanted to, Dean.  And for what?  So what if I win the suit?  Zachariah is the head of the Chamber of Commerce.”

            “Still—I’m sure people would support you.”

            “Would they?”  Cas scuffed the toe of his boot in the snow.  “I don’t want to make any enemies, Dean.  I’ll just… carry on as I have been.”  There was another argument on Dean’s tongue, ready to be articulated, when Cas’s cell started ringing.  Cas pulled the phone from his pocket, glanced at the screen, and heaved a sigh.  “One moment, Dean—I need to take this.”

            Dean looked away to at least give Cas the appearance of privacy but he couldn’t help but overhear this side of the conversation.  “Hello, Anna.  Yes, I have a moment.”  Cas was silent for a moment and then indignantly, “What?  Can he do that?”  Then “Really?  What are you going to do, then?”  Cas groaned.  “No way.  Come on, Anna—there must be another option?... No, of course not.  That’s not what I meant!  Look, it’s just a busy time.  You know how it is during the holidays in this business.”  Dean glanced back over his shoulder to find Cas pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes squeezed shut.  He sighed in apparent defeat.  “Fine.  Yes, I’ll do it.  When will they be here?”  He tipped his head back and exhaled heavily.  “Yes, I know.  Yes, you owe me.  I love you too.  See you soon.  Bye.”

            Dean looked away quickly again, his stomach twisting uncomfortably at those last words.  He wasn’t _jealous_ for God’s sake. That would be ridiculous.  There was nothing to be jealous _about_.  Still, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, as innocently as possible “Who was that?”

            They began walking again, Tessa tugging on her leash, when Cas finally exhaled a breath and said “That was my sister, Anna.”  Dean’s eyebrows jumped up his forehead and he suddenly felt stupid for his unfounded burst of jealousy.  “She wanted a favor.”

            Dean decided to maintain his air of nonchalance.  “Oh?”

            They reached the truck, then, and Cas unlocked it quickly.  They each crawled in, Tessa taking up her spot in the middle, but Cas didn’t start the truck.  They simply sat there, Cas staring out of the windshield, his hands loosely grasping the wheel.  “She’s been called away for a sudden business trip for a couple days and she needs someone to watch the kids.”

            Dean frowned.  “The kids?”

            “My niece and nephew.”  Cas turned his wide blue eyes to Dean, then, and he looked a bit terrified, if Dean was being honest.  “I’ve agreed to watch them for a couple days.”

            Suddenly, the enormity of the situation dawned on Dean.  “Oh.  At the B&B?  The kids are coming there?”

           “Yes.”

           Dean hummed.  “Well, that could be fun, right?  A visit with family?”

           Cas turned the ignition and the truck roared to life.  “Children make me… very nervous.”  He murmured.  Then he pulled out of the parking space and they made their way back home.

 

* * *

 

 

           Dean was just finishing putting on the sheets in one of the guest rooms when Cas found him.  The other man hovered in the doorway, his dark hair wild like he’d been running his fingers through it constantly.  He twisted his fingers together in the soft maroon fabric of his Henley.  “What if they hate it here?”  He whispered.

           Dean finished tucking the sheet under the mattress and stood to face his boss, hands on his hips.  “They’re kids, Cas, not critics.  I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

           Cas’s big blue eyes were wider than usual, almost terrified, when he raised them to meet Dean’s look.  “You don’t understand, Dean.  I’ve never had to watch them on my own like this before.  I don’t even know what to do with kids!”

           Dean dropped the blanket onto the bed and walked across the room until he stood in front of Cas.  He hesitated only for a moment before he grasped the other man’s shoulders and squeezed gently to get his attention.  “Listen to me.  You’ll be fine.  In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ll be awesome.  Alright?”

           Cas gulped.  “Right.  You’re right.  How hard can it be?”

          “Exactly.  Besides, it’s not like they’re babies, right?  They can entertain themselves?”

          Cas nodded.  “Yes.  Claire is 13, and Jesse is 10.”

          Dean flashed Cas a comforting smile.  “That age range is the best.  It’ll be fun, Cas, you’ll see.”  Dean gave Cas’s shoulders one more reassuring squeeze before he reluctantly drew his hands back and returned to making the bed for Cas’s niece and nephew.  “When are they getting here?”

          Cas glanced down at his watch.  “Should be a couple hours.  What should I make for dinner?  It’s been so long since I’ve seen them, I don’t even know what they like anymore.”  Cas bit his lip for a second before snapping his fingers.  “Spaghetti.  Everyone loves spaghetti, right?”

          Dean grinned over his shoulder at the other man.  “Yep.  Everyone loves spaghetti.  You know what would probably make them even happier?”

         “What?”  Cas asked anxiously.

         “One of those awesome pies of yours.”

         Finally, a real smile quirked Cas’s lips.  “That’s a great idea, Dean.  Thank you.  I’ll go get started on one right now!”  And then he dashed away, muttering to himself.  Dean just shook his head, chuckling, and continued with his work.  


	10. Getting the Lay of the Land

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, folks! I hope you all enjoy :)

     

       “Uncle Cas!” Claire called, as she pushed through the front door.  Anna followed behind the girl, hauling a suitcase while Jesse wandered in last, his nose buried in a videogame.  Cas hustled around the corner from the kitchen, dusting flour from his hands.  His face lit up when he saw his family, and he opened his arms for his niece, who had grown at least five inches since the last time he’d seen her. 

       Anna thumped the suitcase onto the floor at her feet and brushed back a stray wisp of her dark red hair.  “Thanks again for agreeing to watch the kids, Cassie.  I really appreciate it.”

       “It’s not a problem.”  Cas said, brushing his hand over his niece’s blonde hair, where a blue stripe ran through.  “What’s this?” 

       Claire shrugged and grinned up at him.  “You like it?”

       Anna rolled her eyes.  “She’s going through a phase.”  Cas raised his eyebrows and Anna explained “It’s temporary.  I figured she’s on vacation, so why not?”

       Cas smiled down at his niece and murmured, “I think it looks fantastic.”

       Anna shifted and nudged Jesse forward with a hand on his shoulder.  “Hey, you wanna turn that thing off for a while and say hello to your Uncle?”

        Jesse sighed heavily and switched off the game, but he forced his lips into a feeble smile when he met Cas’s eyes and said “Hi Uncle Cas.”

        “Wow, you got big!”  Cas exclaimed.  Sure, he’d seen pictures, but both Jesse and his sister had grown so much since Castiel had seen them in person.  Behind Cas, he could hear the pounding of hurried footsteps coming down the stairs, and then Dean rounded the corner, cheeks flushed, calling “Hey Cas, are they here?” 

        Everyone’s eyes were drawn to Dean.  Cas could see that he’d changed into clean jeans and a soft-looking, dark green sweater that made his eyes pop.  He wore a big grin with no sign of nervousness as he took in their guests.  Claire’s eyes were wide, and Anna’s were interested, assessing, as she raked her gaze over Dean’s body, from his face to his boots and back again.  Jesse cocked his head to the side and asked innocently “Are you Uncle Cas’s boyfriend?”

        Cas blushed and cleared his throat, shooting Dean an apologetic look.  “No, no.  Anna, Jesse, Claire—this is Dean.  He works here with me.”

        Dean recovered quickly and came forward to shake everyone’s hand.  Cas noticed that Anna’s hand lingered in Dean’s, and he had to fight off the surge of jealousy that burned in his chest.  Anna was beautiful and she’d been single for far too long.  Dean was a good, handsome man.  Who was Cas to step in the way of the two of them if they were interested in each other?  It’s not like he had any sort of claim on Dean, after all.

 

 

         Cas ushered his family further into his home and led them up the stairs to the guest room where the kids would be staying.  He waited in the hallway with Anna while the kids situated their things and divested themselves of their heavy winter wear.  Anna leaned against the doorframe, watching her kids, and then she murmured “So, Dean, huh?”

         Castiel jerked his eyes to his sister.  “What about him?”

         Anna smirked.  “He seems very nice.  How long has he been working for you?”

         “Nearly a month.  And he is a very nice person.”

         “Hmm.  What’s he do?”

          Cas shrugged.  “Maintenance, mostly, though he seems to spend most of his time shoveling snow and de-icing the house.”

          Anna nodded absently.  “He’s handsome.”

          Castiel folded his arms over his chest and gave a short nod.  “Yes.”

          Anna chuckled.  “Oh, calm down, Cassie.  I’m not suggesting anything.  It’s just an observation.”  Cas glared, and it seemed only to amuse Anna further.  “Although, if there _was_ something going on between the two of you, I’d have to congratulate you.  A good looking man like that who knows how to fix things?”  Anna smirked at Cas and laid a hand on his shoulder.  “Hold on to him, little brother.”

          When they made their way down the stairs, Cas hoped that Dean wouldn’t notice his blush.

 

           

 

            Anna took her leave shortly after that, explaining in a harried tone that she didn’t want to be late for her flight.  She said goodbye to her children, gave Cas a kiss on the cheek, and disappeared into the waning evening light.

            They had two guests that night—a Mr. Compton and his daughter Lacey—who joined them for a hearty dinner of spaghetti.  The guests along with Cas’s family, and Dean, sat around the dining room table and carried on light conversation about the weather and the beautiful location of the B&B.  Castiel murmured comments and hummed in agreement while the others talked, but his attention was focused elsewhere. 

            Claire and Jesse sat side by side, twirling forks full of spaghetti and playfully nudging each other every so often.  They were like night and day: Claire with her blonde hair and pale green eyes, and Jesse with dark hair and eyes the color of a forest.  Neither of them looked like their mother, not really.  Their father had been a dead-beat, had abandoned them when Jesse was still just a baby.  Beyond the occasional child-support check, Anna and the kids had nothing to do with him anymore.  Cas knew that when the kids were younger, they’d ask about their dad, but Anna said they’d stopped that a while ago. 

            Anna was different—she’d thrown herself into her career after he left, determined to take care of the family on her own.  And though Cas and his brothers had offered to help her, she’d been adamant that she could take care of herself and her children.  And she could.  She was a very successful businesswoman now, and her children were growing up beautifully.  Castiel was proud of his sister.

 

 

 

            After dinner, Dean remained in the kitchen to help Castiel clean up.  He was leaning against the counter, warm smile on his handsome face, talking with Castiel about their guests, when suddenly they heard Claire shout from the living room “Oh my God, puppy!!!”

            Dean rolled his eyes good naturedly and Castiel huffed, waiting.  A moment later, Claire burst into the kitchen clutching Tessa in her arms while Jesse trailed her with an envious expression on his face.  “Uncle Cas, you didn’t tell us that you have a puppy!”

            Castiel dried his hands on a dishtowel and turned his attention to his niece.  “Her name is Tessa and she belongs to Dean.”

            Claire quirked an eyebrow and spun on her heel to face Dean.  “Her name’s Tessa?”

            Dean shrugged.  “Yep.”

            “Can we play with her?”

            “Sure.  Bet she’d love it.”

            Claire gave Dean an assessing once-over before gracing him with a curt nod.  “Thanks, Dean.  Come on, Jesse.” 

            Dean watched the two of them retreat to the living room before turning his eyes to Cas.  Cas shrugged helplessly and said “What can I say?  She takes after her mother.”

            Dean snorted. 

 

* * *

 

 

 

            It was still early when Dean made his way down the stairs, but he knew that Cas was up by the smell of bacon and coffee wafting up to the second floor.  Tessa stumbled down the stairs on sleepy puppy legs beside him and Dean grinned at the sight.  He’d gotten so used to being shadowed by the little fur ball that it was a wonder to him that he’d gone so long without her.

            Dean was surprised to find the kids already awake and sitting at the little alcove table pushing pancakes around their plates, eyes still bleary.  “Mornin’,” Dean muttered to the room in general before he sidled up beside Cas to snag a coffee mug.  Cas turned, their shoulders brushing, and afforded Dean his usual smile.

            “Good morning, Dean.  Hungry?”  Cas asked, holding up a fresh plate of food.

            Dean took it graciously, his fingers brushing Cas’s.  “Thanks, Cas.”  He smiled.  “I see that we got a couple inches of snow during the night.  I’ll head out in a few and start clearing the drive.”

            “Sure.”  Cas filled his own plate and the two of them joined the kids at the table.  Dean was amused to see that Tessa had taken up a new spot under the table at Claire’s feet, and wasn’t surprised at all when he caught Claire sneaking her a piece of bacon.  He decided not to say anything about it, though.

            They ate their breakfast in relative silence, but it wasn’t an oppressive silence—it was the kind where everyone is still just waking up.  Cas made a good cup of coffee—Dean didn’t know what kind it was, but every morning he found himself grateful for it.  He sipped at the steaming cup now, enjoying the flow of warmth into his body, knowing that in a few moments he’d venture out into the cold.  His contemplation was interrupted by Cas’s deep voice addressing the kids: “Was there anything that you two would like to do today?”

            Claire shrugged.  “We have things we can do if you’re busy.”  She bit her lip, suddenly looking uncertain.  “What are you doing today, Uncle Cas?”

            Castiel shrugged.  “Well, normally I would do the cooking and cleaning, but our guests are leaving later this afternoon, and I thought maybe the both of you would like to see the town?”

            Claire shot her brother a look, which he returned, and she nodded.  “Sure.  Sounds great.”  Then she took a swig of her orange juice and then paused, regarding Dean over the rim of her glass.  “What are you doing today, Dean?”

            Dean almost choked on his coffee.  Damn, the looks this girl was packing already—she was like a sniper disguised in the body of a thirteen year old girl, but her eyes gave her away.  Pointed, calculating, wary.  Dean swallowed and cleared his throat.  “I’m, uh… gonna go clear the drive and probably tidy up some of the paths around the house.” 

            Claire raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.  “Have you always been a handy man?” 

            Cas shot her a warning glare.  “Claire….”

            Dean shrugged.  “Nah, Cas, it’s fine.  The girl’s curious.”  Dean wasn’t sure whether he should be amused or terrified by Claire’s assessing gaze.  This line of questioning, these looks… they were learned behaviors.  She was being protective.  Whatever it was in her life that had brought her to this point, where she felt like she had to ask… well, Dean knew what that was like.  So he decided to humor her.  “This job’s pretty new to me, actually.  I was in the army before.”

            Jesse perked up at that answer.  “Really?”  He asked.

            Dean nodded and took another sip of coffee, glancing calmly between Jesse and Claire, who looked somewhat mollified by the answer.  Jesse shoved his plate away.  “Did you ever kill anyone?”

            “Okay.”  Dean said, standing abruptly with his plate.  “I’m gonna head out now, Cas.”  He cleaned his dishes and put them in the washer, then whistled for Tessa, who came trotting after him, and he escaped outside.  Behind him, Claire was wearing a look of smug satisfaction and Cas just looked confused and annoyed by his lack of control over the conversation.

 

 

 

            The morning was cold enough that Dean had to hold back a shiver when he made his way to the tool shed for the snow shovel, but not cold enough that his breath froze in his lungs.  Tessa veered off the path and dove face-first into a pile of snow, barking and snapping, doing her best to eat it.  Dean chuckled to himself and she raised her face at the noise, muzzle now covered in white, and wagged her tail before she darted off into another drift.  Crazy pup.

            Dean got to work quickly, enjoying the calmness of the morning, glad for the fresh air. 

            He had only been working for about a half hour when he heard the front door open and shut.  He glanced up, thinking that maybe their guests were leaving early, and was surprised to see Jesse making his way toward Dean, feet scuffing the snow, hands shoved in the pockets of his winter coat.  Dean paused and leaned against the shovel, waiting until the boy was nearer to wave and call “Hey Jesse, what are you up to, man?”

            Jesse shrugged.  “Can I help?”

            Dean glanced around.  “Well, uh… there’s really only one shovel.”

            Jesse dropped his gaze and kicked another pile of snow.  “Oh, okay.”

            “But you can keep me company if you want to,” Dean added quickly.  “Gets a bit lonely out here shoveling all by myself.”

            Jesse grinned up at him.  “Okay.”

            Dean smiled to himself and resumed his shoveling.  “So… in a fight between Batman and Superman, who do you think would win?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fun times coming next chapter ;)


	11. Hot Chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank all of you who are still reading this story, and apologize for the long wait. I've been in a bad headspace lately, and I didn't want to to write for this story when I was feeling that way, just in case my bad mood sort of leached onto the page. But I found a little happiness for this chapter, and I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks again, to those who have been patient with me, especially Gaelicblue, who asked very nicely (and who has also been reccing this story, apparently) :)

 

 

            They ended up deciding on Pamela’s for lunch.  It was an experience in and of itself when they all piled in the front seat of Cas’s truck to get there, Claire and Jesse squeezed tightly between Dean and Cas, with Tessa sprawled across their laps, tail wagging at all the attention.  The truck rattled down the dirt lane toward the main road into Ashwood, and Dean made a mental note to give the truck a tune-up as soon as he had the time, and he didn’t have to worry about getting frostbite on his fingers from the metal. 

            It felt strange to be squeezed in so close with people that weren’t family, but the warm, contented smile curving Cas’s lips sort of made it worth it.

 

 

 

            Dean still wasn’t over the fact that a dining establishment allowed dogs, but Pamela was apparently just awesome like that.  It was lunch time and Pamela’s was busier than Dean had ever seen it, but they were still able to find a booth easily enough.  Claire clutched Tessa tightly in her arms and darted for the booth as soon as she spotted it, her brother following close on her heels.  By the time Dean and Cas reached the table, they found that Claire and Jesse had seated themselves comfortably on one side, leaving the other for Dean and Cas.  Dean might have made a joke about it being tight quarters, but then Cas flicked a worried glance at Dean and bit his lip, and Dean decided that he wasn’t going to say anything at all.  He just slid into the booth, closest to the window, and then smiled up at Cas until the other man smiled back and sank into his own seat.  The booth wasn’t small by any means, but it was still cozy enough that Dean and Cas’s knees brushed under the table.  For some reason, it didn’t bother Dean, and he didn’t feel the need to move his knee.  Apparently, neither did Cas.

            In hindsight, Dean figured he should have been prepared, but it still surprised him when Pamela sidled up to their table with her notepad, glanced at everyone in the booth, and flashed a smirk Dean’s way.  “Wow boys, first a dog, and now some kids?  The two of you don’t waste any time, do you?”

            Cas blushed and moved his knee away from Dean’s under the table.  He cleared his throat and said, “Pamela, these are my niece and nephew—Claire and Jesse—they’re staying with me for a couple days.”

            Pamela’s smirk only widened, but she turned her smile on the kids now, saying “Hey kiddos, nice to meet you.  Having fun with your uncle?”

            Claire shrugged and Jesse said “Yeah,” but the lack of enthusiasm didn’t seem to faze Pamela or Cas. 

            Pamela turned back to Dean with a wicked smile.  “And how are you doing, there, Deano?”

            Dean smirked back at Pamela, and said “I’m awesome.”

            Pamela snorted inelegantly and said “Yeah, alright, wise guy.  What can I get y’all for lunch today?”

 

 

 

            Dean supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised by how much Claire and Jesse could eat.  They each ordered a sandwich with fries, which they devoured, along with a milkshake each.  Dean and Cas ordered burgers, and Dean was pretty sure he almost had an aneurysm when Cas moaned low in the back of his throat after his first bite.  Seriously, though, sounds like that _were definitely not appropriate_ with kids in the room.  And, well… Dean had to stop himself from following that train of thought, because, whoa.  The noise had conjured an image that made Dean choke and shocked the hell out of him—Cas, naked, laid out on his big, comfortable bed, head thrown back in ecstasy….  Yeah.  Dean had no idea where _that_ had come from, but wow… he had a feeling it was gonna be with him for a while.

 

 

 

 

            Bless Pamela for bringing Dean and Cas to-go cups of coffee.  The warmth of the cardboard cup felt amazing once they stepped out into the cold of the day.  Over lunch, Cas had asked if there was anything the kids wanted to see, but they just shrugged and said they were cool with whatever.  Honestly, Dean thought, towns like Ashwood were comfortable and friendly, but most of their stores catered to adults, especially the rich or retired kind.  Dean knew that if he was a kid, he wouldn’t care about a yarn shop, or even a record store.  But Cas didn’t want to head back to the B&B yet, either, so Dean suggested they walk to the town square.  Cas had told Dean that during the warm months, it was covered in thick green grass, and bustled with families having picnics and playing.  Dean could imagine it, and he hoped that everything worked out with his job at the B&B so that he’d be around to see it.  Still, even in the cold, it was a wide-open space where the kids could play, and when Dean said that Tessa would probably love to run around in the snow with them, Claire and Jesse were all for the idea.

            Dean thought it was sort of adorable how Cas was nervous around kids, even his own niece and nephew, who honestly seemed to be relatively low maintenance.  When they reached the square, the kids invited Cas to play with them and Tessa, but Cas declined, saying that someone had to hold the coffee.  He told the kids to have fun and took a seat on one of the benches lining the edge of the square.  Dean was torn for a moment—the seat next to Cas looked pretty nice, and he had to admit, Cas looked very inviting holding those two cups of coffee, with his ruffled hair and rosy cheeks.  But then again… it had been a hell of a long time since Dean had actually played in the snow, so he decided to take advantage of the opportunity.

 

 

 

 

 

            It gave Castiel a warm feeling to hear Claire and Jesse laugh so freely.  They’d just finished building a snowman in the square, while Tessa ran circles around them, scooping clumps of snow into her mouth.  Dean chased her around the kids, but stopped occasionally to help the kids pack snow onto the top of the snowman. 

            Dean was obviously good with kids.  Castiel wasn’t sure why it made him so happy to see that, but it did.  He supposed it was because he himself was unsure how to interact with children, or maybe it was because Castiel had grown up in a family where the men did not act so undignified as to _play_ with children, but Dean’s ease with Claire and Jesse was refreshing to him. 

            Castiel saw it coming before it happened, and he held his breath, suddenly anxious because he didn’t know what to expect: Claire scooped up a handful of snow, packed it quickly, and when Dean turned his back to chase Tessa, she launched the snow at him.  Dean skidded to a stop and turned on his heel, mouth hanging open in shock.  Castiel sat forward in his seat to see how Dean would react. 

            Claire smirked in obvious challenge and Castiel heard Dean say, “You sure you wanna start this war?”  Claire replied by flinging another handful of snow at Dean.  It hit him squarely in the chest and Dean gaped at her for a moment before he said “Oh, you sooo asked for it.”  Then he dodged behind the snowman, stooping to grab his own handful of snow.  He popped up a moment later and launched it at Claire.  She laughed when the snow caught her in the arm and she scooped up another handful.  A moment later, Jesse and Tessa had gotten drawn into the fray and Castiel was left to watch the impromptu snowball fight. 

            It didn’t surprise him that Claire and Jesse decided to team up against Dean, pelting him with snow while he did his best to dodge it, laughing as he ran, but it did surprise him when they were bold enough to tackle him to the ground and start tickling him.  Castiel was halfway off the bench before he realized that Dean was still laughing, and, well…that sound _did things_ to Castiel.

 

 

 

 

            Dean and the kids were cold and wet on the way back to the B&B, so Castiel turned the heater all the way up in the truck, and fought back the giant smile that threatened to find a permanent home on his lips.  When they returned home, Dean and the kids went to change into dry clothes, and Castiel decided that hot chocolate would be a nice way for them all to wind down from their outing, so he set about making some.

            The house was blessedly warm after so long out in the cold, and the melted chocolate smelled heavenly while Castiel stood over the stove, heating their drinks. 

            Castiel’s life had started to look up ever since he bought the B&B, and he’d been happy these last two years—he liked what he did, and he enjoyed meeting new people.  Not to mention the fact that he owned a lovely, cozy home and he lived in a friendly little town in the Vermont countryside.  But lately…well, Castiel had never known that he could feel like this.  So happy and… _warm,_ all the time.  There was no denying the fact that Castiel’s life had changed when Dean walked through his door, and Castiel enjoyed the friendship they had now, but… sometimes it worried him, how attached he’d already gotten.  If Dean had the power to make Castiel so happy, Castiel had no doubt that Dean also had the power to crush him.  Not that he believed that Dean would, at least, not intentionally.  But Castiel could sense himself entering dangerous waters where the other man was concerned.  Somewhere along the way, he’d begun to develop feelings for Dean, and while Dean was always very welcoming and friendly, Castiel didn’t labor under the delusion that Dean felt the same way about him. 

 

 

 

            Castiel’s thoughts were derailed when Dean entered the kitchen, wearing a fresh, dry black Henley.  He sidled up next to Castiel to peek into the pot of hot chocolate, their shoulders brushing, and he inhaled deeply before sighing and closing his eyes.  He licked his lips, and Castiel’s eyes followed the movement without his permission.  “Smells like Heaven, Cas.”  Dean murmured.

            Castiel swallowed thickly and dragged his eyes away from Dean’s face.  “I thought it would be a nice way for you and the kids to warm up after the snowball fight.”

            Dean chuckled and wrapped Castiel in a sudden one-armed hug, pulling their sides flush together.  “That’s cuz you’re the best, man.”

            Castiel blushed and waved the compliment away, and he had to admit he was a tad bit disappointed when Dean withdrew his arm.  But when Dean didn’t leave the kitchen, Castiel pulled the pot of hot chocolate off the burner and began to pour it into mugs for everyone.  He glanced up at Dean, mid-pour, and he commented, “You’re very good with children.”

            Dean shrugged nonchalantly and said “Yeah, well, I’ve had a lot of practice.”

            Castiel paused, heart sinking, and he said “Oh?”

            Dean ran a hand through his hair and actually blushed.  “Yeah.  I uh… sorta raised Sammy.  Kinda.”

            Castiel frowned and set the pot back on the stove.  “I didn’t realize you were that much older than your brother.”

            Dean shifted uneasily on his feet.  “I’m not, really…just four years.  But uh….”  Dean chuckled nervously.  “Dad wasn’t exactly around a whole lot, so I just sort of stepped up, ya know?”

            Castiel nodded.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

            Dean shook his head.  “Nah, man.  It’s cool.  What’s done is done, right?  And anyway, I love kids.  They crack me up.”

            Castiel smiled up at Dean and said “Well, they seem to love you too.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

            Claire liked to spend her time curled up in the kitchen by the bay windows, reading her book.  Castiel liked the company—Claire was quiet most of the time, content to read her book and watch Castiel work. 

            It was the day before the kids were supposed to leave, and so Castiel was baking them cookies, but he stopped to take a break to look out of the window to where Dean was chopping wood and Jesse was keeping him company.  He smiled.  Castiel wasn’t aware that he had an audience until Claire lowered her book and asked “You really like him, don’t you?”

            Castiel froze in his spot for a moment, a fierce blush coloring his cheeks, before he gathered the courage to turn from the window and face his niece.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  Castiel said, trying to maintain his dignity despite the raging blush.

            Claire snorted and rolled her eyes, setting her book aside.  “Come on, Uncle Cas—your crush is pretty obvious.”  Castiel’s stomach twisted itself into an anxious knot and he suddenly felt very self-conscious.  If Claire had noticed, who else had?  Did Dean know?  Castiel bit his lip and closed his eyes to try to get control over himself again.   But then Claire continued, softer now, assuring him “That’s okay, Uncle Cas, because Dean’s crush is pretty obvious too.”  Castiel’s eyes popped open just in time to see Claire shoot him an encouraging smile before she returned to her book.

            The knot in Castiel’s stomach disappeared as he turned back to the window.  Outside, Dean said something that made Jesse laugh before he reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair.  Butterflies filled Castiel’s stomach now.


	12. The Herald

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a little over a year since I updated this story. The reason for that is that the last year and a half of my life has been very difficult, for many reasons. I've been dealing with some pretty serious depression, and for a very long time, I couldn't make myself face this story, because there was so much happiness here that it hurt me to think of it. So I stopped writing it. But I've been working on my own happiness a lot recently, and I found myself wondering if maybe, just maybe, I had the strength to come back to this story.
> 
> Yesterday, I got a lovely message from Eritreal, which gave me the motivation to finish writing this chapter. Your words meant more than you know, and they were just what I needed to hear. So this chapter is for you. Thank you Eritreal, and thank you everyone, for sticking with me. I hope you enjoy the chapter.

           

 

 

            Sam arrived two days before Christmas—with the deep roar of a familiar engine, and heralding the approach of a storm.  Dean had been up in his room, finishing setting up the extra cot that Cas dug out of storage for them—fluffing pillows and arranging a warm flannel blanket—when he heard the sound.  He couldn’t help the reaction—it was visceral.  His heart leapt, kicking in his chest at the thought of his Baby, which he hadn’t seen in more than a year, and his baby brother who was now waiting just downstairs.

            Dean dashed down the stairs, passing Cas in the kitchen as he went, and he practically leapt down the front steps of the house to meet his gangly little brother just as he swung his legs out of the driver side door.  Dean grabbed Sam up in a tight hug, Sam laughing at his antics but going willingly, and clapping Dean on the back. 

            Sam was solid and warm, and so damn tall—Dean could almost forget—and even after all this time apart, the kid still smelled like home.  Dean felt tears prick his eyes, but he held them back, and took a step away so that he could get a good look at Sam.  “’Bout time you got here, Sasquatch.”  Dean muttered.  Sam rolled his eyes and shoved his too-long hair out of his eyes, but he smiled radiantly down at Dean anyway.

            “It’s good to see you, man.”  Sam clapped Dean on the back one more time, and then their moment was broken by the sound of a bark, and the next thing Dean knew, Tessa was leaping up at Sam, tongue lolling, tail wagging.

            Sam dropped to his knees in the middle of the driveway to pet Tessa’s furry little head, and suddenly he was a little boy again.  Dean didn’t even try to keep the fond little smile off his face as he watched his baby brother and his puppy bond next to his Baby.  Dean took the opportunity to reach a hand out and run it over the smooth black finish of the car, still pristine, and he felt a knot of tension in his chest unwind. 

            After a moment, Dean nudged Sam with his leg and said “Come on, kiddo, let’s head inside where it’s warmer.  It’s just about lunch time.  You hungry?”

            Sam rose to his full height, still grinning down at Tessa and said “Yeah, actually, I am pretty hungry.  I only had an apple before I left this morning.”

            Dean rolled his eyes at Sam.  “Rabbit food,” he muttered under his breath as he shouldered Sam’s duffle and led the way into the house.

 

 

 

 

            Cas met them just inside the door, holding it open for them as they passed through.  He met Dean’s eyes for a moment, before he focused on Sam, face open, warm, and welcoming, just as he had been on that first night when Dean had arrived.  Sam must have caught their brief look, because his face lit up and he turned his own attention to Cas.  He stuck a hand out, saying “You must be Cas!”

            Cas smiled at being recognized and he shook Sam’s hand warmly saying “Yes.  Welcome to The Woods, Sam.”

            Sam grinned boyishly down at Cas.  “Thanks for letting me stay here, man.  I really appreciate it.”

            Cas waved away the thanks, murmuring “Of course.  You’re always welcome.  How was your trip?”

            Dean eyed the both of them for a moment, but then decided that they probably wouldn’t get into too much trouble if he left them alone for a moment, so he motioned to the stairs with his thumb and lugged Sam’s stuff up to his room.  Dean didn’t linger, though, because he didn’t want to give Sam the opportunity to say something weird and embarrassing, and also because even Tessa had temporarily abandoned him for his brother.

            When Dean got back down the stairs, he found that Sam and Cas had migrated to the table, where Cas had warm stew and biscuits waiting for them.  _God,_ it smelled delicious, and even Sam was looking at Cas like he just might be an angel. 

            The food was good, as always, and as Dean sat between his brother and Cas, he allowed himself to just be happy.  Outside it was cold, and the wind was just beginning to pick up.  They were going to get more snow by dusk, and probably before then.  There were other guests due in this afternoon as well.  But those things were only details, not important now.  What _was_ important was the warm, delicious smelling house, and the hot food in Dean’s belly.  The warm, furry body snuggled at his feet under the table.  His brother and Cas smiling and chatting over a good meal.  Family.

 

 

 

 

 

            After lunch, Dean and Sam went upstairs to the room so that Sam could change and refresh himself after his trip.  Dean was determined to give his brother a tour of the place before the storm hit.  Downstairs, Cas was attending to business on his laptop from the comfort of the couch in front of the fireplace.  Tessa was no doubt curled up with him as well.  Dean couldn’t believe he’d ever had doubts about keeping her. 

            Bundled in heavy sweaters, coats, hats, scarves, mittens, and boots, Dean and Sam left the warmth of the house, Dean calling back over his shoulder “Gonna show Sam around!  Be back in a bit!”

            Dean heard Cas’s muffled acknowledgement before the door closed and the biting chill of the wind took his breath away.  It took Dean a moment to swallow and steel himself against the cold, but finally he shoved his mittened hands into his pockets and said “Come on, man.  I’ll show you the place.”

            He and Sam wandered through the yard, and even toward the forest, booted feet kicking in the drifts of snow that would soon grow higher.  “This place is beautiful, man,” Sam breathed, his breath puffing whitely in front of him.  “I see what you mean, now.  You’re lucky.”

            “Yeah,” Dean acknowledged.  “It’s pretty great.  The job’s easy enough, and the property is awesome.”

            Sam glanced at Dean out of the corner of his eye, a smile tugging at his lips.  “And Cas seems pretty awesome, too.”

            Dean arched a brow at his brother, but found himself smiling anyway.  “He is.”  Warmth curled through his belly just thinking of the other man. 

            Sam clapped Dean on the shoulder.  “I’m happy for you, man.”

            Dean glowered.  “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

            Sam chuckled and shrugged.  “Just what I said.  I’m happy that you’re happy.”

            And Dean couldn’t really argue with that, because it was true.  He _was_ happy.

 

 

 

 

 

            They were almost back to the house, just rounding the corner of the drive, when suddenly Sam dropped back for a moment.  Dean turned, concerned, thinking perhaps that Sam had fallen, and instead was met with a cold, fluffy snowball to the side of his head for the effort.  “Hey, what the hell?!”  Dean exclaimed, shaking the snow from his hat and face.  “What are you, twelve?”  In response, Sam stuck his tongue out and threw another snowball, which Dean just barely managed to dodge.

            “Oh, you asked for it!  The war’s on, now, Sammy!”  Dean ducked around one of the trees and dove for the ground, frantically scooping snow into his mittened hands.  It wasn’t the best kind of snow for this—usually he liked his snowballs to be just a little bit wet, just enough to hold together and lend them enough weight to fly true.  This snow was too light and dry for that, and it was hard for the snow to hold its shape, but Sam had declared war, and so Dean was determined to do his damnedest to follow through. 

            Dean spun around the tree, and chucked the snowball as best he could, though it didn’t go far.  Sam just grinned deviously at him, and lurched forward, sprinting toward Dean. 

            To his dying day, Dean will insist that he _did not yelp,_ but he did take off at a run, his boots skidding underneath him, in an effort to get away from his giant of a brother who bore down on him with hands full of snow.  They dodged in and out of the trees until they’d made it back to the front of the house, and they proceeded to barrage each other with loose handfuls of snow in the driveway.  They carried on this way for at least ten minutes, before the front door opened, and Cas emerged, also bundled up.  He glanced back and forth between the brothers for a moment, utterly bewildered, as he came down the stairs.  He looked so warm, and happy, and _pristine._ There was no way Dean was going to let him stay that way.

            Grinning wickedly, Dean dodged behind Cas, effectively using him as a human shield as he stuck his tongue out at his brother, taunting him.  Cas was warm and solid in front of him, but he held himself stiffly, awkwardly, like he couldn’t quite figure out what Dean was doing.  Dean’s impression was proved correct a moment later when Cas huffed and murmured “Dean, what… what are you doing?”

            “Just go with it, Cas.”  Dean murmured back, his lips perilously close to Cas’s ear.  A second later, Dean called “What now, Sammy? Civilians have entered the field of combat!”

            Sam seemed to give it thought, for just a moment, before he shrugged and called “Sorry, Cas, you’re part of this now.  Blame Dean!”  Then Sam wound his arm back, and threw a snowball that splatted against Cas’s chest. 

            Cas froze, perhaps in shock.  Behind him, Dean said “Oh, shit.  I didn’t think he’d actually do it.  Well, better run, Cas!”  Dean wasn’t sure that Cas would do it, wasn’t sure that he’d join in their game (after all, he hadn’t at the park when it had been Dean and the kids) but a second later, Cas jerked away from Dean and scooped up his own handful, which he flung ineffectually back at Sam. 

            Sam laughed and charged, and Cas shouted before running away.  Dean scooped snow and chased after the both of them, determined to get them both cold and wet before the day was done. 

            For a good fifteen minutes, Dean and Cas took on Sam together.  They dodged between trees and threw clumps of formless powder at his shaggy head whenever they came in range.  Somehow, even with both of them, Sam continued to win.  He seemed to have figured out a way to make decent snowballs even with the subpar snow, which was just…totally unfair.  But still, Dean and Cas did their best.  Laughter rang in the woods, and during their game, the sky finally turned a darker gray and opened up, dropping large, wet flakes on them. 

            It took him fifteen minutes to work up the nerve, but finally, Cas grew bold enough that he turned and launched a snowball right at Dean’s head.  Dean was far enough away that he saw it coming and was able to dodge, but still his eyes widened, and he snarled “Traitor!” before launching himself at the other man.  Cas cackled and leapt away, trying to escape.  But he wasn’t fast enough.

            Dean’s heart pounded in his chest, and his veins were full of adrenaline and good humor, and he caught Cas quickly enough.  He surprised himself with his own daring when he tackled Cas around the waist and took them both down into a snowdrift, Cas yelping and turning as they went.  Dean’s own fall was cushioned by Cas, who lay trapped underneath him in the bed of snow.  Dean grinned mischievously down at the other man and murmured “Got ya.”

            Cas chuckled, and smiled, in the way that showed the smile lines at the edges of his eyes, and suddenly, Dean couldn’t help himself.  Didn’t want to.  Didn’t stop to think of the consequences of what he was doing.  He simply ducked forward and pressed his own lips to Cas’s.  A second later, after realizing exactly what he’d done, and shocked at his own move, Dean pulled back, an apology ready on his lips.

            He took a breath to ask forgiveness, but before he could get a word out, Cas wrapped a mittened hand around the back of Dean’s neck and pulled him back down for another kiss, their bodies pressed close.  And God, Dean couldn’t believe how nice it was.  How perfect.  _Why hadn’t they done this before?_

            Their mouths were soft and hot, sinfully so—the perfect counterpoint to the cold, wet snow.


	13. Tidings of Comfort and Joy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that this brings a bit of holiday cheer :)
> 
>  
> 
> ps: Brief homophobic language because Zachariah is a jackass.

 

 

Dean couldn’t sleep.  Instead, he lay under the soft duvet in his room and stared at his ceiling, lit up by the soft glow of moonlight that flooded in through his window.  Outside, it was cold and clear and the land was blanketed in a new, pristine layer of snow.  Dean would shovel it in the morning, but for now it was perfect.

Despite how tired he was, Dean couldn’t find rest.  He kept replaying the events of the day in his mind.  The snowball fight.  The kiss.  The awkward fumbling after that, when they both blushed and pushed themselves up, dusting snow off of their sweaters.  The flickering glances over dinner and Cas hurriedly wishing them goodnight before heading off to bed early.

Dean couldn’t help worrying that he’d messed up.  God, it had felt so good to press his lips against Cas’s, to breathe him in, and feel his warmth, line their bodies up and touch him, and…. Oh God.  It had been the most amazing thing he could ever remember feeling.  But… then Cas had blushed and shuffled, and had given him dodgy eyes all throughout dinner.  And yeah… Dean wanted to do it again.  But not if it was wrong.  Not if he’d just messed everything up.  He’d regret it, and apologize, and promise to never do it again if it had upset Cas.  He didn’t want to give up what he’d found here—a new kind of home, with a good friend, and a man he could respect.  He wouldn’t do that.

“So,” Sam whispered in the dark, making Dean jump (he’d thought his brother was asleep.)  “Are you just gonna lay there brooding in the dark, or are you gonna talk about it?”

“About what?”  Dean grunted. 

“About whatever’s going on with you and Cas.  You guys were acting weird after the snowball fight.  I mean, I know I just met the guy, but even I could tell something was up.”

Dean was quiet for a moment, sort of tempted to just pretend he’d fallen asleep, but he knew Sam would never let it go.  So Dean took a deep breath, let it out.  “I kissed him.”

Sam drew in a breath.  “And?”

“And he kissed me back.”

Sam laughed.  “Well that’s a good thing, right?  So why are you so quiet?”

Dean frowned.  “I think I fucked up.”

He could hear his brother’s frown and could imagine his puppy face in the dark.  “Why do you say that?”

“He’s my boss, Sam.  Those sorts of things aren’t meant to happen.  And anyway… you saw him after dinner.  He ran away.”

“Did you talk to him about it?”

Dean snorted.  “Of course not.”

“Talk to him.”  Sam said.  “That’s the only way to find out for sure.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next morning, Cas smiled at Dean like nothing had happened when he greeted him with coffee just as the sun was coming up.  “I hope you slept well,” Cas murmured.

“Great.  Thanks.”  Dean lied.

“And Sam?”

“Still sleeping.”  Dean murmured, inhaling the scent of bacon and pancakes.  “I was hoping to have the drive shoveled before he gets up.”  Dean shifted on his feet.  “What are your plans for today, Cas?  It’s Christmas Eve, after all.”

Cas turned his eyes away and it made Dean’s stomach turn.  “Well, I was hoping to go into the village this afternoon.  They’re having the holiday light festival.”

Dean frowned.  “This is the first time you’ve mentioned it.  What is it?”

Cas glanced up but his eyes darted away again quickly and Dean didn’t like that one bit.  “All of the shops in the village put their holiday lights on and give out baked goods and hot chocolate and such.  And then people walk through the village singing carols before the evening service at the church.”

“That sounds pretty nice.”  Dean decided.  “Can Sam and I come, too?”

“If… if you want to, then of course.”

“Cas….”  Dean shuffled closer, but was afraid of invading Cas’s space.  “Please look at me.”  Reluctantly, Cas raised his bright blue eyes to Dean’s, and Dean hated the look of uncertainty, and even fear there.  It clawed at his belly.  “Cas… did I mess up yesterday?  I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable and overstep.  And if I did, I’m so sorry.  It will never happen again.  But please… please don’t shut me out.”

Castiel frowned.  “You think that you made _me_ upset?”

Dean mirrored his expression.  “Well…yeah.”

Cas shook his head.  “I thought I’d… well, I thought I’d taken advantage of _you_.”

Dean snorted.  “How so?”

“Well,” Cas shifted and folded his arms defensively across the soft charcoal of his sweater, “I _am_ your employer, and after last night, I thought that my attentions had been unwelcome.”

“They weren’t.”  Dean blurted.  “They aren’t.”

“You… you didn’t mind, then?”

“Mind?”  Dean chuckled.  “Cas, I kissed _you,_ remember.”

“Yes,” Cas blushed.  “I remember.”

“Look,” Dean said, “I don’t wanna get all mushy here, or make you feel uncomfortable, but I’m just gonna lay my cards out plain.  I like you, okay?  A lot.  I value you as a friend, and I think you’re a good person, and if given the opportunity, I’d like to kiss you some more.”

Cas blushed and shuffled his feet.  “I’d… I’d like that too.”

“Awesome,” Dean said, before pushing into Cas’s space and cupping his jaw and pressing their lips together once again.  Yep.  Perfect.

Cas breathed out shakily when Dean pulled back.  “Are you sure?”  Cas asked.

Dean kissed him again, long and slow, until Cas was quivering against the kitchen counter.  “Very sure.”  He grinned.  “So.  Can we come with you, then?”

Cas’s eyes were almost glassy when he nodded and said “Oh, yes.  I’d like that.”

“Great,” Dean winked, backing toward the door, “it’s a date, then.”  He caught Cas’s flustered blush before he made it to the door and blast of cold hit him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“So,” Sam said smugly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he shuffled around Dean while he shoveled, Tessa stumbling at his heels, “are we going to the festival, or are you dragging me along on a date?”

“You could stay home,” Dean grumbled, throwing a shovel-full of snow into the pile.  He didn’t mean it, though.

Sam cackled.  “You make it so easy, Dean.” 

“Seriously though… I think it might be a bit of both.  But I think you’ll really like the village.”

“Yeah, I think so, too.”  Sam admitted.  “New England is so much different from Kansas and the rest of the Midwest.  I haven’t regretted it at all since moving here.  It’s…charming.  And comfortable.”

“I agree.”  Dean said.

Sam stooped to scoop Tessa into his arms and the puppy snuggled in willingly—they were both in love.  “I can’t believe you have a dog.”

Dean chuckled.  “You and me both.  To be honest, I can’t believe this is my life now.  This time a year ago, I was dodging bullets and eating sand.  I never thought….”

“Yeah,” Sam said, cutting him off.  “It was a rough year.  But things are looking up.”

“They are.”  Dean smiled.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Dean wasn’t a poet, but he almost felt like he could be when they arrived in the village late in the afternoon and he beheld Ashwood.

The village was the perfect blend of opposites—darkness descending on the buildings, stark white snow lining the streets and sidewalks, piled up against the brick, but the lights…. The lights made all the difference.  Strung across the streets, and lining windows and doors.  Lamps glowing at the edges of the square.  And some of the people even carried miniature lanterns.  It looked like something out of a dream, or a fairy tale.  Beacons of light everywhere you looked, chasing back the darkness and the cold, lending it a golden softness that promised that everything would be okay, that everything was already wonderful despite that it was the darkest time of year.

“Wow,” Sam breathed next to him, and Dean was grateful that someone had said it.

“Yes,” Cas said.  “We do this every year.  It’s customary to buy some hot chocolate and visit with the shop owners and the villagers, and then carol until the service.”

“Great,” Dean said.  “Where do we buy hot chocolate?”

“The church.  Joshua sells it to raise funds for the local needy families.”

“Well, I’d say that’s a good cause,” Dean said.  “Come on, I’m buying.”

A few minutes later, a rosy-cheeked teenager had sold them three cups of hot chocolate and then they found themselves joining the crowd of villagers and tourists milling through the streets and the square under the soft glow of white lights.

As they twined their way through the various shops, enjoying the displays and making small talk, Dean found his and Cas’s hands brushing so often that finally, with a smirk to the other man, he twined their fingers together as well.  And God, Cas looked so good with a light blush coloring his cheeks and a smile in his eyes.  

It felt natural, really, to hold Cas’s hand, and to walk with him and Sam both through the streets of Ashwood, their breath puffing in pale clouds in front of them, cups of hot cocoa clutched tightly to warm their fingers.  

They were standing outside of _Good Vibes,_ Andy’s bookstore, huddled close and discussing their dinner plans, when their conversation was interrupted by a rude, overly-loud voice exclaiming “It’s disgusting, isn’t it?  You’d think sinning behind closed doors would be enough for them, wouldn’t you?  But no, they have to flaunt it!  No shame!”

Cas tried to yank his hand out of Dean’s, and Dean was so startled that he let him, but then he raised his eyes to the voice and found a pudgy, balding man with a sharp frown on his face.  The man met Dean’s eyes before sneering and walking off, his work apparently done.

Dean turned to Cas then, and found that the other man had gone pale.  “Cas,” Dean said, “who was that?”

Cas gulped.  “Zachariah.”

Dean frowned.  “Isn’t he the guy who runs the Chamber of Commerce?”

“Yes.”  Cas rolled his shoulders and then walked into the store.

Suddenly, Sam leaned close and whispered “What was that all about?”

Dean shook his head.  “I’ll tell you later.  Not gonna let that douchebag ruin our night.”

“Alright.”

And Cas might have allowed the hateful words to sink in, might have given in to the desire to brood, except that ten minutes into their browse of the stacks of books and records, they were surprised by another visitor.

She came out of nowhere, all blonde hair and delicate arms, flung around Cas’s neck with enough force that she nearly knocked him off his feet.  “Cas!”  She squealed.  “I missed you!”

Before Dean had time to feel jealous, though, Cas laughed and said “Jo!  When did you get back?”

She laughed.  “This morning.  Came into the village with mom.”  She smiled and embraced Cas for another moment before finally pulling back and looking at the other two men.  “And who are these guys?”

Cas smiled and nudged her.  “Be nice, Jo.  This is Dean and his brother Sam.”

“Dean.”  Jo’s brows rose.  “Dean… as in… maintenance, Dean?  Employee, Dean?”

Cas laughed.  “Yes, Jo.  That Dean.”

“Well,” Jo smirked, giving Dean a once-over.  “I’d say we made a good choice.”  Now it was Dean’s turn to blush, and that seemed to please Jo even more.  She held out a hand.  “Jo Harvelle,” she said, shaking Dean’s hand.  “I used to work for Cas.”

“Ah, okay.”  Dean said.  “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.  I told him to hire you, ya know,” Jo smirked.  “And you’re his brother?”  She asked, turning to Sam.

“Uh, yeah.”  Sam said, holding out his hand.  He seemed a bit overwhelmed by her.

“Jo, Sam is also a student up in Montpelier.  He’s visiting for Christmas.”

“Really?”  And now Jo seemed genuinely interested.  “I’ve never seen you around.”

“You go there, too?”  Sam asked.  “What do you study?”

Jo smiled.  “Walk with me a bit, handsome, and I’ll tell you.”  Dean almost choked on his laughter when Sam, open-mouthed and dumbfounded, followed the petite blonde out into the street.

“Wow.”  Dean said.

Cas smiled.  “I know.”  His eyes followed Sam and Jo out into the darkness.  “Do you think they’ll be okay?”

Dean chuckled and laced his fingers with Cas’s again.  “I think they’ll be fine.  Sam’s braver than he looks.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was the most profound, haunting sound that Dean had ever heard.  Hundreds of voices, together, filling the air and rising up to the heavens, singing:

_“God rest ye merry gentlemen_  
Let nothing you dismay  
Remember Christ the Savior  
Was born on Christmas day  
To save us all from Satan's power  
When we had gone astray

_Oh tidings of comfort and joy,_  
Comfort and joy!  
Oh tidings of comfort and joy!

_From God our Heavenly Father_  
A blessed angel came  
And unto certain shepherds  
Brought tidings of the same  
How that in Bethlehem was born  
The Son of God by name

_Oh tidings of comfort and joy,_  
Comfort and joy!  
Oh tidings of comfort and joy!”

They blended smoothly and complimented each other so that it was almost one voice, a voice without pause, without doubt, without fear or grief, or pain.  It was light.  It was hope.  

Cas pulled Dean into the street and they joined the others.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean wasn’t the church-going type, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to a service, but for some reason, he didn’t regret finding himself settled in a wooden pew between his brother and Cas on the night of Christmas Eve.  The villagers of Ashwood crowded in around them, and it was warm and light.  Outside, darkness had fallen and the temperature continued to drop.  But here, everything was fine.  Everything was good.

Joshua stood in front of the congregation, a soft, honest smile on his face, and he assured everyone that there was reason to be joyful.  

And you know, Dean believed him. 


End file.
